On March 6, Margaret (Peggy) Freydberg turned 107 years old. She celebrated at home in Chilmark, surrounded by children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and friends. Ms. Freydberg had injured herself in the weeks before, and was still recovering, said her granddaughter Tamara Sloan in an email to The Times. “So, her birthday,” Ms. Sloan wrote, “was a mixture of something she dreaded and something she looked forward to. She joked about how she might not survive it. Death, as you can imagine, is very present for her.”
Ms. Sloan said that her own children, however, believe that their great-grandmother is immortal: “My littlest, Naomi (9), says ‘she’s kind of fancy, like she says “Dahling” and eats oysters on Friday.’ My middle boy, Macalistair, reflected, ‘Imagine living through both World Wars!’”
Chilmark writer Nancy Aronie, who has helped Ms. Freydberg share the poetry she began writing 15 years ago, attended the party, and reported that Ms. Freydburg was busy eating oysters when she arrived.
“Gran said it was a wonderful party,” said Ms. Sloan. “She blew out all of her candles on the two cakes, and then later that night, she slept for hours.
“I’ve had a long and wonderful life,” Ms. Freydberg said to Ms. Sloan at the end of the weekend.