Loving, laughing family -- Part II

During a recent visit with our daughter and son-in-law, Elissa made a crack that struck Sean as being a bit disrespectful toward me.  She responded with something to the effect that she was simply pointing fondly to one of my personality traits (quirks, if you prefer), and added something like "that's how we show our love in this family."

Our children have inherited a trait that characterizes my relationship with my two brothers:  teasing in love.  Honestly, I think their kids treat them just as badly as my kids treat me.

On the occasion of my 60th birthday (7 years ago!), my wife assembled our children for a very special celebration.  My brothers could not attend, but they sent words of 'congratulations' by letter.

Here's the letter from Brother Larry:

Dear Don,

I'm writing this in a larger font to make it easier to read now that you have reached superannuation. Congratulations, even though your accomplishment pales in comparison to most biblical figures, I suppose any excuse to celebrate shouldn't be missed.  (After all, you've distinguished yourself as quite the "party animal."  Zzzzzzzz.)

I am sorry that I cannot be there in person to observe your senescence, because my relative youth would appear to make me spry next to your decrepitude. And Bob would be a veritable pipsqueak (you've got to start learning these words, now – it's one of the rules in the "now you're old" book.)

Who would have thought, as you rode around me on your bike, while I played in the backyard sandbox in Cheboygan that this day would arrive?  Or that we would both survive this long after the dangerous games of "crack-the-whip" in Ann Arbor, or your misguided birthday gift to me of football pads and helmet (that resulted in your broken arm) in Silverton?  Oh, you were always the dangerous, envelope-pushing sort, weren't you?  Remember engaging in the dangerous art of "discussion" with dad while living in Newport (about the difference between perspicuity and perspicacity)?  You almost came to blows, and by blows I mean having to stop and catch your breath.  Ah, the good times of mirth and adventure!  I know you're continuing that daring lifestyle, although you may not realize it – short-term memory loss and all.  I know you're continuing that daring lifestyle, although you may not realize it – short-term memory loss and all.

It is said "the good die young."  You are a wonderful exemplification of this maxim.  Perhaps that's been your plan all along.  Nary a hospitalization to announce your goodness.  Very few broken bones. Probably building up quite a stash of sick days, even.

So, enjoy this family gathering and honor!  The first of our generation to reach 60.  (Not that such an honor is notable: you were the first of our generation to reach any age.  Funny how that works.)

Take heart (and watch the same) in the medical advances that make much more likely the outcome that you will live not only beyond any semblance of usefulness (not that you have much use now) but also beyond any semblance of awareness of your surroundings.

If I could provide you with a tangible gift on this occasion (but I'm too cheap to send it) it would be one of Noah's used bibs – you'll need it as you start to lose muscle control and begin to drool.

Given our familial history, I need to leave something to say on your 70th, 80th, and 90th birthdays, which also makes this even less noteworthy.  (Why ARE we celebrating something so common as 60 years of age?  Rock stars and sex symbols are now commonly in their 60s.  What do you have to compare!?)  So with this simple wish, I'll leave you to enjoy what remains of the party before you drift off to sleep for one of your increasingly common naps.  (I know, just resting your eyes.)

Happy Birthday.  Don't overdo the Maalox cocktail!

With what passes for love in this family,

Larry, your younger brother (in case you forgot, although you may not realize it – short-term memory loss and all.)