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Children love birthday parties, especially their own. My late mother made each of my childhood birthdays as special as possible, always making an angel food cake with boiled white icing and an age-appropriate number of candles.
After I had my child, I learned how important his birthday was to me and understood why my birthday meant so much to my mother. While a birthday is a celebration of you, it is also a celebration of the life you've made and the people who support you along the way.
When I turned 50, my evolved attitude made me want to celebrate with all my female friends and family, especially my mother, who then was in the throes of dementia. The focus of my birthday party was on the guests, not me.
My guests were from all parts of my life: my maid of honor, whose Chevette wiring was chewed by a mouse, rendering her car not functional at my rehearsal dinner. My college friends who knew where all the bodies were buried. Church friends with whom I shared babysitting duties and Vacation Bible School for our kids. Work colleagues from long-forgotten jobs, and that one friend who put on pantyhose while driving a company van with me panicking and riding shotgun.
As guests entered, each got a nametag with their first name and the year we met. I greeted them in a pink outfit featuring a Dollar Store diamond tiara and a feather boa.
As a child with a summer birthday, I didn't get to have a school party with cupcakes and singing. Mom, an ex-second-grade teacher, hosted backyard parties with games she created. Dressed in party dresses, we played silly homemade games like passing a Life Saver on a toothpick to another child.
I was so grateful to see all the women I had shared joy, grief and laughter with over many years. Their presence was my present — seeing their faces in one place.
After lunch, I spoke about each person. I worked backward, starting with my newest friend, a woman from church I had only known a few years. I talked about each person's impact on me. Doing this was difficult and emotional.
I had the rapt attention of everyone in the room as I ran through the decades. I'm sure everyone wondered what I would say about them. The tension grew as I worked toward my mother, whom I had known the longest. She wore a nametag that said, "Mom, 1957." Mom had been dealing with dementia for a few years and had good and bad days. Thankfully, she was having a good day, perhaps because of so many familiar faces in the room. Mom was engaged during the party and enjoyed all the attention from guests.
I told the group, "My mom was the Assistant Brownie Scout leader and took skating lessons with our troop. We took lessons at Happy Valley Roller Rink with Orval, the owner and a prolific skater. Orval had us practice a move called the 'S' curve. He lined us up so that we made the shape of an S," I continued. "Orval, as the leader, directed the movements from one end, and Mom and I were on the other. I don't know what got into me — I let go of my mother's hand."
I'm still not sure why I did it. "I watched Mom fly off and slam into one of the padded walls." My 30-something mother laughed, got up, skated back to the row and grabbed my hand again.
"Mom," I said, moving closer to her table as the wide-eyed party guests watched. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I've let go. Thanks for always taking my hand back."
Mom got it. She remembered and was smiling, something we didn't see very often in the years before, nor would we see much of again with her further decline.
Had I been able to bottle the happiness, I would sniff its elixir daily. Women of all ages, shapes, colors and sizes celebrated each other and shared in the magic. All the '57 classics (nine other women born in my birth year) joined me at the end as the group sang "Happy Birthday" with a pink and purple cake that featured all our first names.
By giving away the joy, I made it one of the happiest days of my life.
What milestone birthday will YOU never forget? Let us know in the comments below.
The Girlfriend Staff; Getty images (3)
Follow Article Topics: Lifestyle
