Today my husband and I hosted a party for my Mom's 85th birthday. We live in a cluttered little half a duplex and we have Duffy, our three-year old Cairn Terrier, and two cats, our velvety black Chloe O'Brien and Cleo Bloom, our black and white cat. They are 5 and 3 years old. Some of my relatives have allergies, and that plus the small size of our home makes it impossible to have family parties there. So we held Mom's party at her house. She is always worried that there won't be enough room for everyone and that there will be way too much food. Everyone was comfortable and there was, as usual, too much food, but she had a very good time. It's hard for me to get my head around the fact that my Mother is 85 years old. Then I remember that I am going to be 62 in a few months.
That's hard enough for me! My darling husband is 65!
Our older son is 32 and will be getting married this summer. Our younger son will be 31 next month. Time is marching inexorably on.
In the photo there are two pictures of my Mom, taken 63 years apart with the pic on the left showing her high school graduation picture. She was 17. In the other pic, she is dancing at her granddaughter Annie's wedding. She was 80 years old.Knowing her as well as I do, it is not surprising that she still looks so much the same. She is a very beautiful woman, both inside and out, as a family friend mentioned this week in remembering Mom on her actual birthday.
My Mom tries never to say a bad thing about anyone. She always says yes when someone needs her help, but she is still plenty savvy enough to distrust those soul-less people who prey on the elderly via phone, mail and now email. She chooses the charity she wishes to donate to. She has raised me and my three sisters and three brother with, as I like to tell her, not a bum in the bunch. Between us, we have 17 children among us. My sister, Mo, had a second son, our darlin son, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin, uncle and friend, Eric, who passed away on Mid Summer's Day, June 21st in 2007. He was my nephew, my godson and my dear friend. I miss him very much. His little niece, Emma and his baby nephew, Noah, were both here today for their great-grandma's birthday party. Now, there are 4 great-grandchildren for The Mother. Luke, who is 4 and 1/2 and Emma, who is three and two baby boys, Noah, 7 months old, and Harrison, 3 months old.
Today, right before birthday cake, we had a champagne toast to our Mother. My brother Mike was the oldest brother there, so he gave the toast. "To our Mother on her 85th birthday. Eighty-five ... to the next 85!!"
Our beloved Dad passed away in 1988. That's another number that's hard to believe. They were married for 42 years before Dad died of end-stage kidney disease - a hero. Mom ran him on the kidney machine in the finished basement of our house for 16 years. One of the doctors who was at his wake talked about how remarkable it was that in all those years, Dad had never had even one infection. My Mom never had any medical training.
As pragmatic as always, back in the beginning when she had to practice giving an injection with a syringe full of water and an orange, she told me, "You do what you have to do." She was terrified. It was Christmas Eve. She had seven children, the youngest eight and six years old. She has just been told that her husband might die. I cannot ever imagine how alone she must have felt.
When I think about it now, I wish I had done more to help her. Oh, I helped out. My two other sisters and I split up the duties. My sister, Mo, was married and she and her husband took them on ski trips and to Puerto Rico and other places. My sister, Susan helped them with school and school-work. I, who likes to think of myself as the "fun" Aunt and back then as the "fun" sister, took them to the circus, to the movies and on weekend excursions. We went to Gettysburg and Amish country when Mike was 12 and Ginny was 10, and once to the Kutztown Fair in PA. All things designed to help keep their minds of the fact, as much as possible, that their Daddy was very ill.
My Dad was only 68 when he died. That age gets younger and younger the closer I get to it. It's been nearly 22 years since my Father died. My Mom remarried and was happy with her second husband, who had been a dear friend of hers for 50 years before she married him. They were married for 10 years. So, she has buried two husbands and she remains one of the strongest people I have ever known. Since I am disabled and since I am blessed with the most caring and understanding husband, I try to come and stay with my Mom, usually for about a week at a time. Of all her strengths and her pragmatism, she really hates being alone. It's understandable. She lived at home with 5 siblings in her parents house until she married at 21. She had her first child when she was 22 and then she had me 11 months later. Over the years the other five kids came along. Then, when she was 61, her husband died after an illness that lasted more than 20 years. But she wasn't alone. One of my brothers still lived at home and my sister, Susan and I lived ten minutes away, and so we brought our children over all the time, both of us being stay-at-home Mom's when our kids were little. Then about 5 years later, she married my step-dad, so she was still not alone. She and my step-day moved away and all three of my brothers moved to the same town, so she was a built in babysitter. A LOT!
After my step-dad died, however, she was alone in her house. She lives in an adult community and she has dozens of friends; belongs to some lady's auxiliary clubs; plays golf and bocce; goes to meeting and dances; swims every day in the summer with her pals and she plays cards with good friends twice a week. But she hates coming home to an empty house. I hope, as my brothers get older that they begin to get into the habit of going to visit their Mother and at least have a cup of coffee with her.
It would be ideal if we lived closer. I know my husband would hate it, but I would love to live here. Everything is done maintenance-wise. There's a clubhouse and all the things I mentioned above. They have a small lake, the swimming pool and pets are allowed. Since our sons are grown and one will be married this year, we could get our house spruced up (we own it, now) and sell it and move here or someplace like it. While my Mom is still with us, hopefully for many years to come, I will live in NJ.
Someday, however, my husband and I would like to live in New England. He loves Vermont, but I need to live near the ocean. That would be Rhode Island, Massachusetts or Maine. I'm iffy about Connecticut. Maryland, going the other way, wouldn't be too shabby, either. I don't know what will happen next to me or anyone in my family.
Who knows? I am looking forward to my son's wedding in August. My husband and I are going on a diet so that we will look better for our son and so that at least I will be able to sit comfortably in the airplane seat. As for now, we have no idea what will happen tomorrow. For now, let me say this:
My beautiful, caring and generous Mom is 85 years old and in very good health, God bless her.
Here's to the next 85!!
I'm just sayin'.
