I’ll Have What She’s Having

By Rosanne Gulisano

I have a friend who is 100 years old. I mean a real friend—someone you chat with; someone who keeps up with me and with many others. I received a birthday card from her just last week. She never forgets a birthday. She apologized that it might be a day late blaming “old age” for not checking her calendar in time! (By the way, the card was on time.)

I first met Martha when she was 70 and I was but a young mother with two small kids. We sang together for 20 years in a women’s chorus of 100+ members. Martha was known as the “White Tornado,” with her stark white hair and boundless energy. Her spirited brown eyes and cackling laughter were other trademarks. She didn’t tell anyone her age back then and was mighty upset when that information first leaked out when she was about 80. When she found out what a celebrity her accumulated years made her, she reveled in the attention!

Our chorus traveled together throughout the United States and there was plenty of late night camaraderie. After performing or competing, the chorus members would gather, some staying later into the night. A certain number of cocktails were consumed. Not enough to make us un-ladylike, but they were consumed, nevertheless. This was also back in the days when everyone seemed to smoke (yes—even this group of singers). Martha was not ordinarily a smoker, but would keep cigarettes in a tin band-aid can from one chorus event to the next to keep her supply of smokes fresh from month to month. Sometimes we would escort her back to her room when she over-tippled so that no one would be able to gossip about her.

I often drove the car pool when the chorus performed throughout the metro area. Martha and others would drive to my house and I would chauffer from there to our performance destination. My innocent husband once asked, “What time do you think you’ll be home?” and Martha, not missing a beat, told him, “If you see tire tracks in the morning newspaper then you’ll know she was out late!”

She sang with the chorus until the age of 90, when it finally became too much for her. Every year the retired chorus members throw a birthday party for our friend. It gives us an excuse to get together and share memories, as well as to pay tribute to Martha with the funniest, and raciest, cards we can find. She still has that cackling laugh.

Eventually she sold her little home and moved to an assisted living facility where she is still keeping the staff on their toes and making people laugh. When I visit her there and we take a walk, it’s actually difficult to keep up with her as she speeds down the halls on her walker!

Widowed at a fairly young age, Martha never had children, but she has more visitors than most of the residents. They include a number of young people she used to babysit for in her old neighborhood who are now adults and come often to visit, plenty of nieces, nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews, and those she has quietly helped along the way—for her interests were many and varied.

My friend turns 100 this summer and her birthday bash will be grand. She finally admits to being content to stay in her comfortable suite and not going out very much, but I know she will be looking forward to this event—and so will all her friends. God bless you, sister-in-song—and many more happy birthdays.