Birthday Celebration

Feb 3, 2012 

What a great day yesterday turned out to be.  I woke up late, 6:15 a.m. when Dean called to wish me a Happy Birthday.  Why so early, you may be asking yourself?  You have to understand my non-competitive children.  It is a contest between them to see how can wish  "Happy Birthday" first to the family member on their day.  Rules:  It has to be on their birthday, can't be the night before.  Can't be by proxy.  It has to be reasonable, such as not at midnight.  Did I say my kids were not competitive.

FYI - 6:15 is reasonable for me.  Most days I am finished with my coffee and on to something else by that time. But I guess turning 57 made me extra tired and I was still snoozing at that time.  So that made Dean, number two in our line-up, the winner!  Adam, number four, was next, but alas, by the time he called I was at Mom's drinking coffee and eating blueberry muffins.  It still counts.  First runner-up goes to Adam.  Kathy, third in line, came in a close third, dialing my cell phone and catching me in a wonderful chat with my mom.  Eric, our eldest, knew he would see me in the evening and doesn't join the melee.  He has two kids to get off to school before he goes to his office.  It's okay, Eric, I know you just aren't the competitive type!?!  In reality, Rick won grand prize, wishing me a happy birthday at 4:30 a.m. before we both passed out again.  We had gone to a concert at church the night before and it was TOO early to get up.


My mom is my mentor and I owe so much to her.  So I feel spending my birthday with her is top on my own list of birthday priorities.  And since I have been unable to drive until today, I had only been to see her twice since surgery.  She almost jumped for joy when she saw my car and me walk up her wheelchair ramp unattended.  Being almost 86, I think she thought better of the idea.  We had an amazing time and it was hard to leave.  But I knew my dear friend since 1969, Joan, would be waiting for me at my house.  And she was.

The next three hours were spent in more chat time, taking down the Christmas tree in the living room (Yes, you read that correctly!).  We also did a bit of organizing and found the missing pieces of the portable infant crib I had loaned.  It was a great morning.

 I had intended on joining the school Mass for Catholic Schools Week at one, but after lunch was inda belly, I had a sudden rush of exhaustion.  I barely made it back to the couch from the kitchen sink and the next two hours were spent in la la land.

Again, I was awakened by a phone call.  When I turned to answer it  I saw Kathy, my daughter from Missouri, sitting in the chair.  My eyes nearly popped right out of my head and I gave a squeal of glee.  I don't even remember who called, I sure hope it wasn't important.  The surprise of having her home and the foggy brain just waking up was a bad combination for my memory.

It wasn't long before Karen came.  My friend through Kathy had come to share our afternoon.  We three chatted in between all the phone calls that came in to wish me a "happy birthday."   One of them was my granddaughter, Lauren.  She sounded a bit down when she whispered her greeting.  Dean racked up double points by making sure I talked with her.  He explained why she was down.  She couldn't understand why they weren't jumping in their car and coming to my party.  (They live two hours away.)  Next year, little Lauren, next year.  My birthday will fall on a Sunday and I will invite you to a party. :) Soon, Rick was in, and it was time to head to the Texas Roadhouse.

Eric, Trela, Kile and Cavanaugh had planned to meet us there.  Hobbling through the crowd waiting for their tables I felt like Moses parting the Red Sea.  It sure was cool to have kind people offer me  a place to sit!  Unfortunately, Trela felt under the weather and opted to go home.  Kile and Cavanaugh arrived with their daddy proudly waving their handmade greeting cards.  Those two are steal my heart.  Cavanaugh, age 5, had decorated a paper with lots of hearts, candles, a birthday greeting and a picture of her and I with carrot cake.  Kile, age 8, also created a card with lots of candles and balloons and wrote me an original poem.  I asked his permission to share and it was granted.

Grandmie, Grandmie, your the best.
Your the best of all the rest.
You are fun, you like to share.
I hope you get off your wheelchair.
You soe(sew) and you can drive a car.
Playing with us is a golden star!
Grandmie, Grandmie, your the best,
Your the soewer to get us dressed.
Love, Kile.

It also included his artwork, a carrot cake with a 57 on it.  Can you guess my favorite flavor of cake?

Cavanaugh and I shared a meal of steak, baked sweet potato and vegetables.  She pulled her weight and ate almost as much as I did.  A friend from church, Lisa, was at work last night at the Roadhouse and made sure our waitress knew I was a birthday girl.  It wasn't long before the saddle appeared at our table and I mounted the brown leather.  After a mighty "Yee HAW!" I was given  a small chocolate cake for my birthday.  You should have seen Cavanaugh's eyes dance when she realized she could share the cake with Rick.  FYI - I'm allergic to chocolate.  Cavanaugh cut the cake, gave her Papa about a fourth of it, ate a few bites and promptly boxed the remaining cake.  The leftover bites of steak and sweet potato on her plate soon landed in another box, along with the few morsels on my plate.  Both boxes were claimed by her as she wrote her name on each.  It sure made me smile.


During the meal, Kile talked with me non stop, barely stopping to eat his favorite meal.  Cavanaugh sat next to me and snuggled as close as humanly possible.  I soaked their expressions of love deep into my being.

The best birthday ever ended with a good night hug from them and a trip home.  Who says getting older is bad?