Happy Birthday Ma

My mom turned eighty this month.
It was a milestone for more than one reason. As she's gotten older my mother wears her age like a award she's received. If you think someone's proud of a Nobel Peace Prize, I bet anyone who's won one announces it less than a woman in her eighties.
My mom tells waiters in a restaurant.
"You know how old I am? I'm eighty."
She'll tells cashiers at the grocery store, people walking past the house with their children, and telemarketers who make the mistake of calling the house.
Fortunately she never gives them a chance to reply.
That's such a loaded question.
If you ever run into her let me tell you the best answer of all. Say, "You couldn't be any older than fifty five." You'll be talked about the rest of the day. She'll smugly make fun of how far your guess was off, although she'll be relishing your answer the rest of the year.

Not only is eighty huge, but it was the first birthday she's spent without my father in many a decade.
He passed away in October.
So, at her request, we threw her a surprise party.
It's almost as hard to do as it sounds.
How in the world does one throw a surprise birthday party for someone who asked for it?
Fortunately, when she asked for it in the fall, I had plenty of time to think about it, and pretend to forget about it. Being eighty, she probably forgot about it herself for a brief time at least.
My eighty year old mom compete's in the Senior Olympics. Unlike the International Program these are held yearly in the spring. There's a local competition. If you do well, you qualify for the State, then the National. If there's an International group either mom's never made it that far or she's hasn't wanted to go. She's never mentioned it, but the Nationals are pretty big and she makes those at least every other year. You see, she doesn't have a sponsor and being on a fixed income means you can't necessarily afford to go every year. Besides, she doesn't like to put her dogs in the kennel any more than she has to. Makes you wonder how professional athletes manage, doesn't it? Okay, maybe not.
Anyhow, the big birthday was also the local Senior Olympics competition. Being local, she had to participate if she's was going to make state. I used this as an excuse why we couldn't throw her party that day. "You know Ma," I told her, "you just can't do everything."
If she was disappointed, she barely showed it. (Cough, cough). Okay, she got over it when I promised the whole family would watch her compete.
Maybe even better than being eighty is being eighty and having your grand kids watch you race.
She competed in the hundred yard race (they don't call this a dash for good reason), the shock put (she brings her own), bowling, and the pool competition. Oh, excuse me, I mean billiards. My sister said it took an hour before anyone actually sunk a ball. Riveting!
Okay, it's easy to make fun, but the truth is, Ma is not on any medication, except the occasional Advil and the woman is a real competitor. Her motto, "Another year and I'm still here." We put that on a t-shirt and had her wear it for the big day. Our t-shirts said, Another Year and She's still here. On the back they said, We're here to cheer!
The kids suffered through the humiliation of wearing the same t-shirt as their parents, aunts and grandmother with minimal grumbling and mom made it to state in all her endeavors. Banner day.
Then we took her out to lunch and went back to her house to open presents. We got her a Wii and a Tivo. You see, she's eighty, not dead. She can practice her sports before the big day (they even have billiards for Wii) and record her favorite shows while she's practicing or competing.
The next day we told her we'd take the kids bowling so she could show the grand kids and great grand kids how. That little comment was almost as pleasurable as being told she couldn't be older than 55.
So Ma had a big happy birthday albeit, without the surprise part, or so she thought.
That was waiting at the bowling alley.
All of her local friends showed up to bowl (those with good backs and knees), have chicken fingers and pizza, and birthday cake. We did it. My sisters and I managed to throw an actual surprise birthday party for someone who asked for one.

So there.
Ma turned eighty and the pressure is off.
For at least a decade I get to relax and get back to life as we previously knew it . . . except that we got her a TIVO. Not unlike my children, she's had no trouble at all getting the Wii to work. Funny how that is. But she can't record the shows she wants to watch, or find the shows she's recorded, or get back to watching television after she's watched a show she's recorded.
I can't get annoyed with her either. If I dare say anything, she has the ultimate excuse.
"Good Lord," she'll tell me when my voice gets tense as I'm walking her through the instructions on the phone, "Do you know how old I am?"