"My grandchildren will forget who we are! We never get to see them and they never see us." Those were the sad almost tearful words pronounced by my wife Lorraine.

Our daughter Cara and her family had moved across the continent to San Diego, CA. Three thousand miles is certainly a geographical and economic barrier to frequent visitations. I tried to console my wife but the sadness remained.

One afternoon while checking my junk mail, I spied a do-able cruise trip that started from San Diego and traveled southward down the Mexican Riviera to Cabo San Lucas, Mazatlan and Puerto Vallarta. The time coincided with the spring break for Rachel and Eli, my grandchildren. Cara said yes but unfortunately my son-in-law Eric could not leave his teaching job at a San Diego law school.

What surprised me most was that the Mexican government required a notarized letter from the absent parent giving his/her approval to let the children out of the USA and into Mexico. This was because of many child abductions in divorce cases and other family issues.

Everything fell into place and we were finally ready to board our new home (for seven days) the Oosterdam from the Holland-America Line. The children were overawed as we climbed the gang-plank to enter the huge 11-story ship. Our cabins were neat and cozy and the kids loved the view of the ocean.

When they showed the five of us to our dinner table I was quite disappointed. Our dinner companions were an 80-year-old couple traveling with their daughter. "What a mismatch!" I thought about changing tables but I held off to see how the first meal went.

Well, they were adorable and sweet and the kids loved them. I felt a bit guilty. They were from Staten Island and were so easy and pleasant to converse with. It was the elder gentleman's 80th birthday cruise. His name was Ted. D.

The fusing of the generations was amazing to observe. The adults paid mind to the children and the kids reveled in the attention of the newly found audience of elder strangers. Suppers were now a meal to look forward to. I still was trying to ease my feelings of my first discomfort.

We spoke of old movies, times in old Staten Island, growing up then and now, computers, and his courtship and marriage. He also mentioned his job as a loan officer for Citibank and that he was a running half-back for New Dorp High School and later Wagner College. He now walked with a cane.

His 80th birthday party was replete with a cake and ice cream. His birthday speech was that of a humble and genuine man. The Dutch crew and the Indonesian waiters joined together for a lusty and hearty Happy Birthday song

We five left the dining room with a happy glow. Unfortunately, the story does not have a happy ending. While dozing in my state room I received a frantic call from Amy.

"Stan, please help me; my father just had a stroke." Lorraine and I rushed to her cabin to help her pack. Her parents were being rushed to the mainland (Puerto Vallarta) on a speed boat for a CAT scan. We saw Ted on a gurney with tubes inserted, just before the boat was lowered.

Thank heaven he spoke rationally and sensibly even though one side of his lip drooped a bit.

With a warm handshake and a smile, he said goodbye to Lorraine and me. At this writing his fate is yet unknown. I will inform you when I am made aware.

The cruise continues!