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Celebrating Age: This Woman Deserves a Party By Robin C. Bonner
Recognizing Milestones
It was amazing that Mom had achieved such a milestone—and in doing so had outlived our children’s other three grandparents. I hadn’t really thought about this issue a great deal, my own father and mother having passed relatively early, at 56 and 60. Mom B. was just always there, as mothers are. We almost take them for granted. However, as her big day approached, it struck me how much she had seen in her years and how that had probably affected her. Despite that, or maybe because of it, Mom had always given a lot of herself, and she deserved a lot in return. And, I wondered: How many others like her were out there?
How to Live
Alford (Big Kiss, Municipal Bondage) is an award-winning writer for The New Yorker, The New York Times, and Vanity Fair. As a tribute to the elderly, he has just published How to Live: A Search for Wisdom from Old People (While They Are Still on This Earth) (Twelve, 2009). Alford talks to the famous (Phyllis Diller, Harold Bloom, and Edward Albee) and the not-so-famous, and some reviewers called the latter interviews the most interesting. He even questioned his mother and stepfather, unwittingly setting off a chain of events that led to their divorce, after 36 years together. David M. Giltinan, in his review on the Amazon site, believes the title should be “Growing Old Gracefully,” and adds, “I had expected Henry Alford to be charming. Who knew he could be wise as well?” Alford’s subjects, as it turned out, had a lot of wisdom to impart.
Busier than Ever
Speaking of emergencies, we got a call from Mom in mid-December, several days before she was to host a big holiday dinner for her siblings, spouses, and close friends. I believe many of Mom’s talents can be traced back to her childhood, during the Great Depression. Wanting as a kid encouraged her to manage money professionally as an adult. Her career first as a wife, mother, and homemaker, and then as a bookkeeper, honed her skills at accounting and generally hanging onto money. Whatever she faced as a child, neither her children nor her grandchildren would ever want for anything. (She longed for a pair of dress shoes as a child; my girls had more shoes from Grandmom than you could count.) How generous she has been. She could have toured Europe with the dollars she spent on grocery deals for her three children and their families over the years. She does her best to get items for free or, if not, then for a song. In today’s shaky economy, that knack really comes in handy. If it’s not two-for-one groceries, then it’s dollar-store items or clearance-rack treasures. Mom’s still out there on the prowl for the best bargains, and she shows no signs of slowing down.
This Woman Deserves a Party We designed an invitation, made many a phone call to fill in holes in the guest list, did our mailing, and gathered responses. We all consulted by phone and email, planned the food and decorations, created a timeline, and tried very hard to keep our mouths shut. Mom’s friends and sisters complained about how difficult that was, especially because they spent so much time with her. We just did our best to avoid her. Miraculously, during Thanksgiving dinner, which Mom cooked and 12 of us gobbled down at her house, not one of us spilled the beans. The party was the next day.
Gary’s sister Karen recounted their hour-long drive out to our place: Mom complained the entire time. “Why did we have to have dinner out near Gary and Robin’s? Why didn't we just have it near my house?” Of course, we told her we were taking her out to dinner, and it would be just the family.
After the champagne toast, we enjoyed a fabulous buffet dinner catered by Ortino’s Northside and a lovely sour cream pound cake frosted with pink roses and lavender script (and a special cake baked by Aunt Helen because Mom doesn’t like frosting), not to mention Italian cookies and plenty to drink. Mom the manager, mom the financier had the party of her life, with 50 of her family members and closest friends in attendance, and she didn’t organize it or contribute a cent toward it. Unless you count the thousands of dollars she saved us over the years, the recipes she gave us, the parties she organized herself that we attended, and how all that rubbed off on us. Then, I guess you can say that she participated in the planning. And, boy, was she impressed. She couldn’t stop talking about it. In fact, she’s still talking about it. So are we. For everyone who lives their life as wisely and as generously as Mom has, deserves a party. And, as Henry Alford says, we should heed that wisdom.
Top Links About the Elderly Marty Moss-Coane interview with Henry Alford on NPR’s Radio Times The Encyclopedia of Aging and the Elderly, on Wisdom Elderly quotes from Thinkexist.com An AP review of Alford’s book Ideas from Daily OM on respecting the elderly
Robin C. Bonner is editor of Empty Nest. For more about Robin, see About Us |
© 2009 Spring Mount Communications
That she remains so independent and full of energy, though, while living alone in and maintaining the house in which she raised her family—and that she still takes care of her loved ones, as far-flung as we all are—seems a remarkable feat. I will be very lucky to have her health and vitality if and when I reach her age. It’s time to recognize her and others who can boast 80-plus years, as well as their myriad accomplishments!
In the spirit of Alford’s other humor pieces, this work has been called (by Amazon) a “witty guide for seekers of all ages . . .[he] seeks instant enlightenment through conversations with those who have lived long and lived well.” Publisher’s Weekly says Alford “recognizes that the elderly have been through more in their lives than the rest of us, and figures it might be a good idea to talk to some of them and see if they have any meaningful advice to impart. This plan sets off a prolonged meditation: What is wisdom, anyway?”
She had just learned that her oil burner needed to be replaced. Gary drove down the next night to move all her furniture, and we both drove down the night after, post-installation, to put everything (including her piano) back into place. It was a true emergency. Nothing could get in the way of that dinner—not even the plethora of Christmas decorations she had painstakingly situated on every square inch of the first floor of the house. These, of course, had to be moved and then repositioned. And this was Christmas decor rivaling Macy’s in content, quantity, color, and pizzazz. It was no small feat, but the dinner party came off without a hitch. We know when the neighbors just won't do and the family must be called in.
And for each previous “big birthday,” she had insisted on the same celebratory pattern: having a nice dinner with her children and their families. Only. In June, we picked a date; then when fall rolled around, we went to work. With Mom away on a cruise, we “visited” her house in search of her "magic" address book. In the end, we took digital photos of several 8½ by 11 sheets that made up her Christmas card mailing list, complete with notes on her most recent year's mailing. And a Rolodex filled with addresses and phone numbers. And membership lists (maybe even recent ones) for every one of her social groups: bridge, gourmet, dancing, church, camping club. You name it.
We knew she wouldn’t argue with that. But we wanted to do a catered house party, which would more easily accommodate friends who could only come at the last minute (depending on their health that week), those who were early, those who were late, and those who lingered. As it turned out, all of these guests were in attendance that day. When Mom arrived, with 50 or so of us huddled quietly in the living room, and she opened the door, it was well worth the wait. If right now you’re asking whether it’s a good idea to jump out and scare an 80-year-old woman, let's just say that we got away with it. She cried, she leaned on the doorjamb, she went back out on the porch, she came inside. She laughed. She cried again. In 28 years, we had never pulled one over on Mom. Until The Party.
We told “Mom stories”—foremost were anecdotes of Mom’s shopping genes and how they have been passed along to her offspring and grandchildren. The guests left, and the immediate family (all 19 of us) partied into the night. It was grand.