Have you ever thought about your favorite memory of your whole lifetime?
Yesterday, my dad and I took my mom to brunch for her 80th birthday (and incidentally, my 55th) at the fanciest restaurant in their little city. The place is definitely more over the top than it is truly fancy. It’s really more garish and ornate, but to my mom and dad, it’s a fancy place and I secretly love the tackiness of it all.
I know my mom is pretty pleased to make it to the wonderful age of 80 years, though she complains and moans and tells me how tired she is every day. That’s just my mom. I don’t know if she’s necessarily happy - she’s never been a “happy” person, but I know she’s pleased.
She has trouble getting around and now uses a cane to go everywhere. She fought that cane for a long time, but she’s definitely an old lady now. So we slowly packed her into the car and made our way over to the venue.
When we arrived, they’d set our table up with birthday lights and a balloon and sparkly table runners - the whole nine. It was horrible and wonderful all at the same time. Just like we like it!
We sat down and settled in for brunch, ordered our goodies and then I turned to my mom and congratulated her on 80 years and asked her what the most favorite memory of her whole life has been so far.
She thought about it for a moment and then said that it was a time when she brought newborn me home from the hospital and she was giving me a bath and I was wailing crying. My big brother was still a baby and hanging on her pant leg screaming, and the phone and doorbell both rang at the same time and she started crying herself.
My dad and I looked at her puzzled. We both asked at the same time, “Was that really your favorite memory?”
And she answered that maybe it wasn’t her absolute favorite memory, but it was her most memorable moment and in that moment she told herself that if she could get through that time in her life, she could get through just about anything.
Then we asked what her real FAVORITE moment has been, and she said it was her wedding.
Which, okay, I suppose that’s kind of a given and I thought it was sweet, and I looked at my dad and he said, “Well, I was terrified!”
He continued that even after the wedding and during their honeymoon that they didn’t really know each other that well. They’d dated for six months and got engaged and then six months later they were married, but they never really traveled together or anything. So it was on their honeymoon when my dad found out how bitchy my mom can be!! Ha!
Of course, he didn’t use those words, but I am. She can be an awful person!
But I also thought about my dad. He can be kind of a dick too. I mean, not really. As his daughter, my dad is the nicest man I’ve ever known, but you get it, right? Bottom line, my mom and dad can bicker like the best of em.
None of this was said out loud.
But all of that brought the discussion around to the fact that they will have been married for 60 years next year! What a long, long, looooong time to be married. And there is love there, even through all of the bickering (which I would never stand for, and that’s probably why I’m single), there is a deep understanding between them. And that’s what matters.
I don’t understand it, but I’m so happy for the two of them, that they’ve made it this far.
And my mom, well, it’s too late for her to change her moody, cranky, bitchy ways. She has not been the nicest person to me (or my dad) through the years, but at 80 years old, none of that matters anymore. It’s too much energy to hold a grudge, and not enough ammo to even put any effort behind it. Besides, I’ve already spent enough focus on it in therapy to know the whats and the whys.
I told both of my parents yesterday that I am going to strive to just keep them as reasonably happy as I am able for as long as we can keep this up.
And I hope that there are many new favorite memories to come.
Happy 80th to my mom.
GS
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