Eighty Nine Years

Yesterday, my great grandmother celebrated her eighty-ninth birthday. Although a few weeks ago at her home’s Christmas party I asked her how old she was going to be she said two-hundred. I suppose it all feels the same when you reach a certain milestone in your life. Either way, we celebrated eighty-nine years of the life of Verna Hay (or May as she insists her middle name is) Kulczyski. She was a bit confused and tired yesterday and I don’t think she even realized we were all there to celebrate her birthday but she enjoyed her two pieces of cake and adorned her neck and wrists with some new jewelry, her accessory of choice.









I am so thankful to have had her in my life for almost twenty-five years. Selfishly, I wish she could in fact live to be 200 because I can’t imagine my life without her.