Jip's Fourth Cycle

Jip has now gone around four times on the Chinese zodiac calendar. For her 48th birthday a few days ago, she let me throw her a party, the first time since she turned 36.

So much has changed in the meantime. Back then, her dad was still alive to send her a lovely note, telling her how happy she made him. Jip was still working, and her colleagues—Cambodian, Chinese, Ethiopian, Jewish, Mennonite—each celebrated her in unique ways. Our wide Seattle care community had yet to band together as the invaluable support network and safety net that it eventually became, but those seeds were being planted, and many people from that large group turned up to wish Jip a happy day.

Yet in spite of the many changes over twelve years, Jip has hardly aged at all. She still has the skin of a twenty-four-year-old, and the laugh of a little kid. Her white hairs probably outnumber the black ones by now, but she cuts them short enough that people who meet her for the first time have a hard time guessing how old she is. She lives such a healthy lifestyle and eats such a healthy diet that she is among the fittest people I know, in spite of her disease.

On the actual day (which happens to be a national holiday here—very handy), we hosted a steady stream of friends and phone callers. Her mom phoned in the morning to say that she had been to the temple. (Jip didn’t want gifts, but it was OK that people made merit in her honor.) We stretched out the occasion a bit longer with a trip two days later to an interesting Buddhist retreat center that Jip had wanted to visit for some time.

I suspect Jip has yet to reach midlife. She’ll probably follow in her grandmother’s footsteps, as she does in many other ways, by orbiting through at least four more cycles.