Mom was back at her Bingo in a few months. She went through a brief period of depression after her by-pass surgery, something the doctors said would be normal. She was slowing down and felt sad that she couldn't do all the things she used to do. Of course Mom was a whirlwind before so a seventy-five percent Mom was still a very active Mom. She just hated to be dependent on others, which I couldn't blame her for feeling.
In time she began driving again and doing most of the things she had done before the surgery, especially going to church, visiting sick friends and attending just about every funeral in town.
For the family it was more of a wake-up call that she wasn't getting any younger and we had to help out more. Mom wasn't going to be around forever and it was time to appreciate her even more.
That's how her surprise 80th birthday party came to be. She never had a party before in her life. It was time and she deserved one. So the family got together and started planning.
We rented the local VFW hall, hired a caterer to make the food, sent out the invitations, bought the decorations and got a DJ to spin the music. The hardest part was keeping it a secret from Mom.
We thought about telling her then realized she would never want it. Oh, maybe deep down inside she did but Mom was very humble and I couldn't see her agreeing to a party that she knew about. No shindig for Mom. She would rather spend her birthday playing Bingo.
Maybe a party would really tick her off. Maybe we should recosider? But a landmark birthday like this shouldn't go unnoticed. Mom deserved the love and recogition more than anyone, especially after her heart surgery. She was a special lady. As they were wheeling her to surgery she was worried what I was going to have for lunch that afternoon. "Make sure you eat!" were her last words.
That was Mom. Always thinking of others. I think she knew how much she was loved by her family and friends but just in case, we were going to make sure she knew.
So it would be on Sunday, April 11th, We invited close family members, friends and especially her beloved Bingo buddies. Practically all of Phoenixville would be there. Only it wasn't for her funeral, as she always mused. It would be for a much happier occasion.
As April 11th neared, and all the party plans had been finalized, the last item was how to get Mom to the party and yet keep it a surprise. She attended a regular Bingo in town on Sunday afternoons, that's if she didn't make a big dinner ( usually her signature spaghetti and meatballs) for the family. What excuse could we give her to bag Bingo?
My sister suggested to trump Bingo with Bingo by telling her there was a new Bingo opening at the VFW that afternoon. If she wanted to go Phyllis would even pick her up.
The morning of April 11th, after Mom returned home from Mass, my Phyllis came over to take her to afternoon "Bingo." Mom knew all the Bingos in the area. She was suspecious and asked if we were throwing her a party.
I looked at Phyllis like "Should we lie?" That's all Mom needed to see.
When she found out the truth she was more annoyed than I ever imagined. She didn't like the attention, She threatened to stay home saying, "Go have the party without me."
"But it's your birthday," I pleaded. I tried to convince her that she deserved the party. Friends and family were coming from all over. The party was just as much for them too, It was a chance for them to show Mom how much they cared by showing up. "Please don't ruin the surprise. Go and have fun."
Begrudingly she relented, steadfast that she would have a terrible time and this was going to be "a birthday she would never forget."
That was true, but in a good way, because when she got to the hall she was surprised ( or did a damn good job acting surprised) at the amount of people who had filled the VFW. When she saw the amount of work involved- from the decorations to the food to the beautiful cake- she eased up and actually smiled.
She was most impressed that her Bingo buddies took time off to be at the party. They skipped afternoon Bingo to pay tribute to Mom, a high honor. There was an evening Bingo to attend, anyway.
Later that night, as she sat in her favorite chair in the living room at home, she read all of her birthday cards. She had the funny habit of marking the back of each card with the dollar anount that was in the card. (when she died I found a big cardboard box full of hundreds of cards over the years- Birthday, Christmas, Get Well. She saved every one).
She admitted the party was nice. Someone had videotaped the event and she would watch it now and then, especially years later when many of the party-goers were gone.Many of her older friends were passing away before her. Her sister Sue was at the party but would die shortly after. Mom would always have the memories of such a happy occasion.
Her 90th birthday party was much easier. In fact, she helped to plan it. No need to keep it a surprise this time. It was held at the VFW again. New faces replaced old ones who were gone- new grandchildren and daughter-in-laws.
A few years earlier Mom had both of her knees replaced. Arthritis wore her down to the point where she could hardly walk without pain. For Mom to complain we knew it had to be bad.
She bartered with the Orthopedic surgeon that if he didn't do both knees at the same time ( which, at her age and with her history of heart problems wasn't the best course of action) she wouldn't have the procedure at all. He reluctantly gave in.
She came through the operation like a champ. Eighty-three and a pair of brand new knees. She went to rehab for a few weeks. I was on my own again at home but this time the routine was easier. Mom never had any problems with her knees after that. She used a cane but she still drove a car until she was ninety.
So there she was at her 90th birthday party, holding her cane as she sat greeting people, all dressed in her favorite color sky blue,. At her 80th she went from table to table to see her guests. This time they came to her as she thanked everyone for coming.
The next party is when you turn one hundred, Ann," many encouraged her.
"I won't make it," she said softly, smiling. "But I have to hang around and take care of Greg..."
While Mom had her health issues during the 1990s, I had mine too. My O.I. had been pretty stable. I would suffer stress fractures, and every time the seasons changed I could feel it "in my bones," the aches and pains of old fractures haunting me.
My brittle bones were under control. I was feeling pretty good. Then the challenge of a new health concern took me by surprise, concerns that would last a lifetime.
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