It seemed as though it was yesterday that we were all together, living in London and celebrating Tena’s Eightieth. Ten years on and so much has changed. The venue was Northern Ireland, none of us live in London anymore and Tena’s three siblings – all of whom thoroughly enjoyed her reign as an octogenarian – have passed onto Glory. Recessions, food banks and spiralling fuel costs have morphed into normal everyday life. Children have grown up, passed through university and embarked on careers. Petrified marriages have been laid to rest and wonderfully vibrant relationships have replaced them. All in all, what a difference a decade has made – that is, except to Christena Henrietta.
Tena danced the night away, circulated like the gracious lady whom she always has been and, at the conclusion of the evening (11.30pm), announced that she was not tired and wanted “to go clubbing”! Aghast, I refused to entertain such a notion, only to be reprimanded with, “You young ones have no stamina”!
In the presence of such an unequalled, formidable and incorrigible nonagenarian, I admit defeat and defy anyone to keep up with her. What a lady!
