Pat and I had dinner last night with four widows who were in
their 80s. Probably late 80s, as we were at a mercy dinner for a mutual friend
who’d died at 92 and they were her girlfriends. (The deceased was Pat’s cousin,
Edith Joseph.) Anyway, they were great company. Funny and sharp and just the
way you hope to be at 90. As it is with all (almost all) of Florida’s elderly,
they came from somewhere else, but these women love Florida. One of them said
she was rooting for the Phillies in the World Series and the other one sneered,
what kind of New Yorker are you, anyway? Ex-New Yorker, she said. Another one
said she was getting new windows because of all the golf balls that keep
breaking hers, and I said, well, you must have a nice view, though. She whipped
out her i-phone and showed me a picture of it. They made fun of my low-carb
diet. Staff of life, honey. One gal was a Florida native (imagine Sanford in
1920). She said she’d been back recently and it’s a real cute town now.
Pat and I thought they were great conversationalists and I’d
like to see them again! You know, Edith was terrific--it's no surprise her friends are too.
Here's another picture of Sanford in the 20s.