An Unlikely Perfection

Last week we threw a birthday party for my Grandma Colleen.  My wife and I, my aunts and uncles and several friends all gathered at my grandma’s new home, a memory impaired facility in Boulder.  We were all aglow and feeling good about ourselves for throwing grandma a party.  We had everything in place, the food, the presents, balloons and cake.  The one thing that we didn’t have was grandma.  She'd boarded a tour bus and was spending the day on the town.  The home's activities director provided us with her approximate whereabouts.  When we found her she was enjoying dinner with strangers at a Macaroni Grill.  

Alzheimer’s is considered a most horrible disease but I'm thinking it's more like a little vacation after years of putting up with jobs and kids and life in general.  

I mean how often have you just wanted to forget about your birthday?  Everybody wants to make a big deal out of your journey to antiquity and you just want to go hide.  If I were to sneak away from my birthday party everyone would think I was a jerk.  My grandma gets away with it.

Last night we had a birthday soiree for my deceased mother.   I’m beginning to think we just like an excuse to party.  Not anything, not death or degradation, will stop us from doing so. 

It was a year ago yesterday that my wife and I had planned a big surprise to-do for my mom.  Crappy weather left the three of us stranded at home.  

Out of some kind of insane generosity I had purchased ten gallons of cookie dough to support my nephew’s preschool.   A quick estimate had us in hock for about two hundred dozen cookies.   We could live snowbound for several years.  And at least for one day that’s what we did.  April snow showers pounded the city and Sarah made a huge cookie cake.   I fixed the entree, a family favorite called Welsh Rarebit.  

I was feeling bad that my mom wouldn’t get the big party we’d planned.  She said it was perfect.  

Last night we all gathered at my sisters for dinner.  Again, the birthday girl was the only thing missing.  We wouldn’t be finding her at an Italian restaurant.  Unless of course the Christians are wrong.  

We moved around stiffly, hugging each other and eating barbecue.  I looked for distractions.  The two dogs doing their cute dog thing and my aunt’s donation of some party noisemakers were sufficient.   We ate pie and made fun of the 1976 version of King Kong.   Tyler had insisted upon watching it.  He’d since surrendered to sleep.  So had his mom who was curled up on the carpet.  It was time to go.

Sarah and I drove the hour it takes to get from Loveland to the city of Englewood.  Our Toyota’s missing window invited the scent of fresh farm fertilizer.

We gagged and laughed simultaneously.  

My mom would have sworn it was another perfect evening.   
  

Comments

[bd-eyes]

You two certainly know how to party!

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