You only turn 90 once!

From left to right, Dad, Grandma Charlotte, Mom, this writer
Taken at Cousin Jonathan's Bar Mitzvah
Jonathan is the oldest of Grandma's six great-grand kids

I've been thinking about my grandmother recently.

Grandma Charlotte Bernstein, who turned 90 last Tuesday. I wasn't able to get to Florida to help her celebrate last week, but I'm looking forward to traveling down with the family next month for a big get-together/celebration. In addition to my immediate family, my uncle David, his wife, three daughters, and their six kids will all be in attendance.

Grandma, my Dad's Mom, is my last living grandparent, and I feel very lucky to have her around, to give me a hard time about my continual lack of girlfriend (at least as far as she knows), my working too much, my not sending her enough newspapers, and my not coming to visit her in Florida often enough, etc... Because really, who else is going to do those things, if not your grandmother? Hopefully it's the role of a grandson to not meet expectations. At least I call from time to time.

Like many people, I started out life with four grandparents. Sadly, I never really developed close relationships with my other three grandparents. Grandpa Ralph (Mom's Dad) died of lung cancer in 1996, when I was too young to understand that he wouldn't always be around. Grandpa Phil (Dad's Dad) died in 2003, following a botched angioplasty, tragically robbing me and the family of the chance to say good bye. Grandma Bea, Mom's Mom, died in 2006, after years of declining health that slowly robbed her of any ability to interact with the outside world.

Dad and grandma cut a rug, such as it is, at Jonathan's Bar Mitzvah
Sadly, I don't think I'll ever be able to dance as well as Grandma
At least I can compensate by saying I haven't had as much time to learn

But, despite outliving so many of her peers, Charlotte is still going strong. On her birthday she played penny slots with my parents and my aunt and uncle at the "Indian casino," as she calls it. I don't think they won big, but it was fun, she said.

At next month's party my Dad tells me that there's an opportunity for me and other family members to offer a toast of sorts for Grandma. Dad suggested that I talk about some of her more-shining grandma moments, such as when she taught my brother and I to play poker, or when Eric and I climbed the tree in her backyard to pick grapefruits. Maybe, but I'm worried that neither of those will make the best 90th birthday party speeches.

Part of me wants to leave all the toasting/roasting to my brother, who is, without a doubt, the better Bernstein when it comes to funny public speeches. But part of me doesn't want to bow out -- after all, grandma is only going to turn 90 once.