Enough Living For Three Lifetimes

Aunt Bert turned 86 today. She would be horrified to know that her real age has been revealed, to say nothing of the exposure on this fact on the Internet. She's the least vain woman I know yet she's rather protective of her age. Still, in her 86 years, she's crammed in multiple lifetimes. She still attacks each day with the vigor of a young woman. Her mind is agile and curious. She enjoys talking so much that often one sentence rolls into the next one without a breath taken. She laughs with her whole body. She never lets on that she's having a bad day, even when she could. She enjoys life fully. I believe when she comes to the end of her life, she will be someone who won't have a single regret.

She was raised by non-English speaking Polish immigrants on a farm on the North Fork of Long Island. They were poor and the children went to work in Manhattan as soon as they finished high school. Bert was one of those people who hit the sidewalks of Manhattan running. She worked in a ship building plant during World War II--she is fond of telling people she was Rosie the Riveter. She then assumed a nanny's position with a wealthy family who apparently enjoyed a close friendship with Meyer Lansky. She met this notorious mobster many times and remembers he was polite and very well dressed. She moved on to a buyer position at Bloomingdale's and this is where she met Uncle Stan, a law student at the time working in the shoe department. They soon married and moved to Queens. Stanley built their house next to his parents home and Bert lives in this house still. While Stanley built his law practice and moved into political office, Bert raised the family and became involved in the community and church.

She 's traveled all over the world. She met the Pope (the Polish one, of course). She campaigned for her husband's Assembly seat and trekked with him to Albany. Before Stanley passed away in 1996, they had three homes they divided their time amongst: the house in Queens, a condo in Florida for the winters and a summer cottage on the North Fork on Long Island. She would tell you she's had a full life, but by all signs she has no intent to slow down. Outside of slightly failing hearing, she's as sharp as a tack and a ball of fire. I consider her a personal hero. She reminds me not to sweat the stuff that doesn't really matter; rather, it's important to enjoy the people in our lives and the small pleasures that make life full.

Today we celebrated her over a birthday lunch. I wished her a hearty StoLat (a Polish expression meaning "May You Live 100 Years") and I meant every word of it.