Elizabeth turns 90....

I phoned Elizabeth days before her 90th birthday, checking in to see what plans she had for the big day. Barely audible, speaking through the tears, Liz is so distressed by the latest health issues that she suggests it's her time to move on past this world, sharing her feelings of loneliness and sadness. Her fun loving demeanor has been replaced with a sense of hopelessness. ''You must hang on, Liz'', I beg. I' intend on celebrating the day with you sweetie! What will I do with the presents I have for you?'' With a valour attempt at optimism, Liz accepts my offer. ''I'll see you in 4 days, Elizabeth...just 4 days, ok?''
I knock lightly on Elizabeth's door that is partially open, and there she sits, in her blue tattered robe, her satin soft white hair without the fluff  of a shampoo. A familiar smile dances across her worn beautiful face as we hug longer than usual. ''Happy Birthday missy!'' It's my birthday?'', she questions. I must hide my feelings of sadness that Liz doesn't remember what the day means. ''Not only is it your birthday, you are a fabulous 90 years old today!'' Sitting beside her, I offer the gifts I've brought for her. A bottle of German wine, a handmade note and roses. She begins to cry, and so do I. I hold her tight, offer to brush her hair, and open the bottle, to which she approves with a nod. She wanted us to sit on the balcony where we usually converse, but it was too hot for both of us. I wished there was more time to spend with her, but I was on a tight time frame today.''Can you come tomorrow. I wait for you everyday'', she shares. I wish I could take her home with me.....