Day 71: 92 years of age and still stirring the pot(plant)

 Today myself and my two sisters made our way up to visit the one and only Auntie Peggy. It wasn’t just any visit — it was her 92nd birthday, and as always in our family, there was a bit of friendly competition about who could bring the best present. Birthday bragging rights were at stake, and we all came armed.

So serious were the stakes that my cousin Fionnuala had called to my house the evening before, plant in hand. She couldn’t make the trip herself, but she wanted to make sure Peggy got her gift — a lovely potted plant — and that her presence was symbolically felt. Of course, in true Lynam style, the delivery came with a disclaimer and a challenge.

Naturally, I told her there was every chance I might keep the plant for myself and tell Auntie Peggy she’d forgotten all about the big day. Fionnuala, not to be out-bantered, replied with a perfectly deadpan request:
“Can you take a photo of her with the plant? I’ll need evidence.”

Fair enough, I thought. So I snapped a lovely photo of Auntie Peggy with her leafy new companion and sent it on.

But that wasn’t enough.

“Can you take it from a few different angles?” came the next message.
“I just want to make sure it definitely is my plant.”

Now, for most people, that might sound a bit paranoid. But anyone who knows our family will recognise the dry-as-dust Lynam humour a mile off. Still… part of me couldn’t help but wonder — was she joking? Only Fionnuala knows for sure.

Either way, Auntie Peggy was in flying form — smiling, storytelling, and making 92 look like the new 72. We chatted, laughed, and soaked up the kind of joy you can only get from being surrounded by your nearest, dearest, and most sarcastic.

Happy birthday, Auntie Peggy. Here's to many more — and to plants, presents, and perfectly timed punchlines.