She was born on a Sunday during the last days of the presidency of Calvin Coolidge, September 30, 1928, the same day Elie Weisel, biographer and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, came into the world. They named her Margaret, but no one called her that. Peggy, my beloved sister, turns 88 today.
How is it that this petite, effervescent woman is suddenly 88 years old? Life’s journey goes by so fast. As a brilliant, talented teenager, Peggy became a Carnegie Scholar at Baltimore’s Eastern High School, placing her in advanced studies and enabling her to pursue with vigor her first love — music. She studied piano at Peabody, sang in the esteemed Peabody Junior Choir, and graduated in 1946 as postwar prosperity was taking hold. As president of the youth fellowship at her church, she coordinated a citywide festival that brought in gifts of food for those in need. Boys loved her brains, good looks and upbeat personality and chased her endlessly until she met the one she would marry.
Today, these many years later, Peg and Ted enjoy retirement on Cape Cod, their home for many years, living in a retirement community not far from their children and grandchildren. Ted, who as a young physician directed the gynecology department at Boston’s respected Lahey Clinic and developed it into a world-class program, has hung up his scalpel. He and Peg are loving their retirement years together. They have earned this.
Today, she is 88, the number of keys on a piano. How appropriate.
No kid brother could have had a better older sister, wise, loving, caring mentor and friend. Have a wonderful day, my sister, my love.
(No Today’s Word today. I only want to honor Peg.)