A few days ago I attended a memorable birthday celebration. The father of one of my oldest friends reached a significant milestone. He turned 100. After catching up with people in the church foyer, the celebration began in the auditorium of the church with a slideshow. Leon sat on the platform and gazed at the large screens to his sides and behind him. The slideshow was centered on his life, of course, but I did see one photo of myself with Leon and his older daughter. Thanks for that, Sue. Sue began the party by thanking everyone for coming and invited family members to share a memory. I sat a few rows back in the darkened room and watched and listened as grandchildren and great-grandchildren sat beside Dziadek and poured out their love, admiration and gratitude. Several of them, actually most of them, became emotional, wept and struggled to kept their voice from breaking. Since I was sitting in the dark, I’m sure no one could see a couple tears filling my eyes. Oops! Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted that. Scratch that. It must have been my contacts bothering me. (FYI, I don’t wear contacts.) More of the family shared memories. Ashton made an appearance on the stage with his mother, but he didn’t say much. That’s kinda understandable since he’s 100 years younger that his great-great grandfather. Do the math and you’ll realize he is a baby. How many great-great grandchildren can claim to be 100 years younger than a living… you know.
I watched Leon, who was the center of attention – at least when Faith wasn’t entertaining the crowd. I wondered where his thoughts were taking him. As to be expected for a man his age, his mind can be confused at times. Hey! I can’t always remember things, and I’m not close to his age. I knew he was soaking in the love of his family. I loved it when his granddaughter-in-law spoke to him in his native Polish even though I couldn’t understand a word. I didn’t need to. I could feel the love filling the room.
After the family had an opportunity to share, I had a chance to say a few words. I looked around the room and a weird thought popped into my head. Other than Leon’s daughters, I realized it was highly probably I had known him longer than anyone else in attendance. I spoke about his early life a bit and mentioned his impressive family legacy, but I knew when to hand the mic back to Faith.
I find it intriguing there are five living generations of Leon’s family. For instance, Sue, though many years younger than myself, is a great-grandmother already. Let me run this by you. If she lives to the age of 100, which is not too far-fetched, and the family produces another generation every twenty years, which is the current rate, by the time she reaches 100 she will be a great-great-great grandmother. Think about it. My great-great-great grandmother was probably alive during the Civil War. There could be seven generations of this family celebrating birthdays, weddings and births. I thoroughly enjoyed staying in the background and watching the family celebrate this joyous occasion. Unfortunately, for many families the only time they get together is at a funeral.
Leon is a quiet, unassuming man who has lived an extraordinary life. It was said Will Rogers never met a stranger. The same could be said about Leon. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like him. Especially the ladies. I thought about an old joke and realized it fit Leon. It goes like this. A crowd of 500,000 gathered in St. Peter’s Square one morning. Two people stepped onto the balcony overlooking the crowd. 499,998 people turned to each other and asked, “Who is the man in the white hat talking to Leon?”
Later, when nearly everyone had left, and only a few family members were around, I had time to sit with Leon. He looked at me and smiled. My heart leapt with joy because he remembered me. I held his hand and he talked to me. I’m not sure what he said because his voice was soft and low, and, like I mentioned before, I don’t speak Polish. But I didn’t need to understand the words. I could see the joy in his eyes.