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Happy Birthday, Betty!

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Betty's 90th Birthday

Betty’s 90th Birthday

A new old friend, Betty recently celebrated her 90th Birthday by inviting 20 people to a buffet dinner in a local hotel. There were representatives from almost every decade in the last century, literally from 9 to 90!

Betty has endured so many hip surgeries over the years that she has only one hip. As a result she is unable to walk or do much for herself. Caregivers come to her home three times a day to get her meals and help her in and out of bed.

You might think Betty is sad or depressed. You might think she would feel sorry for herself. But not Betty! She may not be able to walk but she is a walking example of how to enjoy life.

Betty has lived in her inner city home for 50 years.  Her oldest neighbour, Mary was taken to a nursing home on the day of the party. That was sad for Betty. Part of her purpose lately has been watching out for Mary, who has steadily deteriorated over the past few years. First her hearing; now her, mind. She’s been showing up at Betty’s at 10:30 at night, thinking it’s morning and scaring the Dickens out of Betty.

After five decades as neighbours, Betty and Mary are more like sisters than friends. Sadly Mary’s mental decline is ending their relationship. When Betty and Mary are both gone, their old homes will be dozed to make way for duplexes or mansions. Their decades of memories will be wiped out.

Betty’s kitchen is like Grand Central Station. I pop in to water her flowers or bring Divot, our 14-yr-old Golden Retriever, whom Betty loves, for a visit. Invariably I meet a different person every time, having tea with Betty!

Betty is determined to stay in her home until she dies. I hope she makes it. No matter how well meaning the “homes” are, they’re not the same as Home. The parade of visitors will slow to a trickle and eventually dry up. The staff is so harried and thinly spread, they have little time to interact on a human level. And the food is dreadful, almost completely void of nutrition and therefore, taste. No wonder people are dying to get out of there!

At her party the guests inquire with each other about our connection to Betty. One woman said her parents lived two doors down the street. For years Betty drove them to the grocery store. “Knowing my parents,” she laughed, “they didn’t buy one drop of Betty’s gas, so this is payback for me!” In her tone, shone love for Betty and the honour she has in paying back Betty’s kindnesses.

I know why Betty came into my life a few years ago: since my grandma’s been gone, I need old ladies in my life. They help connect me to “the good old days”, when I was eight and Grandma was my best friend. Much of what I learned from Grandma, I see again in Betty. They’re both tenacious old birds with a love for their people. I continue learning from Betty:

Have friends of all ages. And celebrate with them. Friendships take effort. It isn’t called “cultivating” friendships for nothing! I doubt Betty was thinking about being 90 when she was driving her old neighbours to the grocery store. Pay it forward is not just a cute slogan. It really works. One day when I’m old I hope to have younger friends who are willing to lend me a hand or an ear from time to time. I’m counting on good deeds being like stocks, paying me dividends in the future.

Happy Birthday, and thank you, Betty, for your friendship, for your never-give-in spirit and for reminding me that longevity depends on friends.

Birthday Present

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Shelley 4 yrs old

Shelley’s 4th Birthday www.shelleygoldbeck.com

Throughout my life I have confided that I never had a traditional kid-centered birthday party when I was a child. My birthday was always acknowledged, usually with a dinner and cake at Grandma’s but it was always just family.

Now that I’m at the stage of life where most women are happy to forget about birthdays altogether, my birthday activities have mushroomed. This year, I’ve been celebrating for nearly two weeks and I’m still not done!

The celebrations actually began a few days before my birthday. Over the years, I seem to have collected many friends whose birthdays are near mine. May 13 is the date for four of my friends. One is in Italy, one was too busy that week, one is out of touch, but the fourth and I had a lovely lunch that day.

A new friend treated me to lunch the day before my birthday. She blew me away with her thoughtful gifts and the efforts she took to present them perfectly.

With my big day falling on a long weekend, the May 17 Club decided to celebrate after the weekend. (Yes, there is a club, a group of people I’ve met over the years who share my birthday. See below.) As we all have busy lives, we’re not meeting until Tuesday, a full ten days past our day. But we don’t care. We are happy to catch up with each other once a year.

My birthday began with piles of Facebook and email wishes. Say what you will about the intrusion of internet in our lives but when it’s my birthday and 50 people take the time to send a greeting, it makes me feel pretty special! Those greetings poured in all day and spilled over into the rest of the weekend!

A friend sang “Happy Birthday” on my voicemail and she tracked me down and wished me a happy day. Very good effort!

For the first time in probably 20 years, I celebrated my birthday with my parents, the people responsible for my existence on this planet. My mom cooked a turkey dinner, one of my favourite meals. My sister joined us and brought me a bouquet of flowers. I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten flowers from her.

My daughters and granddaughters took me out for sushi in the evening. One of my favourite activities is to watch my grandtoys eat sushi. Most kids won’t go near it. With my little ones, you have to be rather aggressive with your chopsticks or you might not get any sushi for yourself!

Lunches continued to be lavished upon me all week. I even bought a couple as I celebrated with friends with birthdays after mine. I discovered that another friend’s birthday is the day before mine: we resolved to celebrate together next year.

A close friend surprised me with a handmade, heartfelt gift recognizing my recent accomplishments. I even received a number of old-fashioned, mailed cards, most of which made me laugh. (I’m glad people think of funny when they buy me a card!)

Ideally, I would simply take off two weeks to fit in all the celebrations. But the real world requires that I accomplish tasks despite the parties. Alas! I have neglected thanking everyone for their greetings. Until now, it has seemed premature.

So today, I reflect on the many blessings I have received these past two weeks. I am rich with contacts that take their valuable time to acknowledge me. I have close friends and family eager to spend time with me.

The timing of all this is perfect. Now is the best stage of my life to collect birthday memories. Children inevitably forget the parties, lose touch with friends, and it all ends up a blur.

As an adult, I am aware of the importance of these “touch points”. I am wise enough to ponder them in my heart, revere them, and hold them as precious. Thankfully, my mind is still clear enough to remember them for some time.

Have you ever seen a young child with a mountain of birthday presents? Opening them becomes a chore. Wrapping paper falls away, revealing a carefully chosen gift, only to be glanced at and discarded on the pile to make room for the next present.

As an adult, I open each “gift” with care, examining the wrapping and appreciating the art that went into it. I focus on the spirit of the giver. I hold the gift in my heart and carry it with me forever.

How can I regret birthdays past when birthday present is so rewarding?

Though I may have been short-changed on parties as a child, I’m more than making up for it now.

Isn’t life wonderful?

 

May 17 Birthday Club (originally published May 17, 2009)

This week the May 17 Birthday Club conducted its 20th annual meeting.  It was festive as usual as we all got to soak up an hour or so hanging out with four other people who share little but having been born on the same day.

I first became aware of the club ten years ago when I hired a new assistant.  I was telling my colleague, Paul how amazing it was that the new hire had the same birthday as I do.   I rambled on about how I had never met anyone who shared my birthday.

Paul asked me when my birthday is and when I told him May 17, he said, “Mine too”.  I called “BS” and demanded he produce his driver’s license.   Sure enough; it is May 17.

He then proceeded to tell me that he and two other guys he had met through business get together for lunch on or near their birthday each year.  He immediately invited my new assistant and me to come to the next lunch and we have never looked back.

The first time we talked at length about our similarities and differences and wondered aloud whether there was any truth to our horoscope.  We discussed the various celebrities that share our day, among them Bob Saget and Dennis Hopper.  As the years passed we learned about each other’s passions and families.

Some years we met in November too for our half birthday just to catch up with each other.  Last year our spouses joined us for dinner to honour the 65th of one member and the 50th of another.

We have representation from four decades and we always discuss our ages and how time marches on.  (For years one member has stated his age as X “US” (generally giving him at least a 20% advantage!)) This year I told the group that I’m 17 for the third time!

We’ve witnessed many life changes.  One year a member lost his mother just before our meeting.  The following year he lost his father.  I remember him calling himself an orphan that year.  The next year we celebrated the birth of his first grandchild.

There have been graduations from Kindergarten , high school, and university.  We have witnessed career changes, once-in-a-lifetime vacations and acquisitions of businesses and property.  We have had births, deaths and weddings to discuss. Next year a new baby will be coming to the lunch.

This week we marveled at how our lives have evolved, all the fun we’ve had meeting with each other, and how quickly the years have passed.

Happy Birthday to my fellow May 17ers.  You have greatly enriched my life.  I am privileged to have lunched with you all these years.  I feel like I have found a family.  I sure hope we’re still meeting in 20 years.

And if your birthday is also May 17, you are automatically a member.  Drop me a line and we will gladly include you in the festivities next year.  It’s bunches of fun, but that’s just One Woman’s Opinion.

My Finishing Mom

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mildred

Photo owned by www.shelleygoldbeck.com

I am blessed to have had three mothers. My first mother, of course, gave birth to me. My grandmother assisted in my rearing; I consider her my second mom.

Then there is my ‘finishing” mom.

I call her that because she finished the job of raising me. You see, I was 17 when I married her son and like most 17-year-olds, I thought I was pretty smart. In reality, I knew nothing.

Through her open heart, smiling face, undying service and unconditional love, she gave me many tools that have shaped my life.

We bury her today. This is my tribute to Mildred Olsen.

My grandma met Mildred through work. They became fast friends. Grandma started attending the church down the street and found the Olsens attended there.

That’s where I first met my third mom. I remember her incessant smile. I also remember sitting behind her and seeing her rearrange the sausage curl at the end of her hair.

I was 14 and had an immediate crush on her son. Three years later I became her daughter-in-law and she became my mother-in-law, a title she hated because of the negativity surrounding mothers-in-law and the ensuing jokes. She worked hard to dispel the stereotype and she achieved that.

mildred2

Photo owned by www.shelleygoldbeck.com

She always treated me as though I were one of her children.  My Christmas and birthday gifts were as generous my sisters-in-law’s gifts.  She both praised and scolded me (gently) as if she were my own parent. I never resented it. In fact, I loved the feeling of family she instilled in me.

I imagine she was taken aback by my ignorance of keeping a home.  As the oldest in my family, I was expected to labour outside on the farm. The extent of my kitchen skills were peeling potatoes, setting the table and washing dishes.

She taught me how to cook. Not so much taught, but allowed me to observe and ask questions. I often helped her do her Christmas baking. I learned how important food presentation is. The tomatoes weren’t simply sliced, but neatly arranged on the plate. I still serve tomatoes this way.

Her apple pie was legendary. In fact, Pastor DeMaere told me she made the best apple pie he ever ate and he had been served thousands of slices of apple pie over the years. A roast beef dinner evokes sweet memories of her Sunday dinners.

Not only did I learn how to cook in her kitchen I learned hospitality. Mildred loved nothing more than having company. Out would come the coffee and squares or cakes. Her reward for serving her guests was their company. That suited me well. I am thankful I learned hostess etiquette at her side.

In her kitchen I also learned how to clean. Her kitchen gleamed. Everything was wiped down daily and because of that regularity it was easy to keep it up. I will never claim to be as meticulous as she was but I learned how nice it feels to work in a clean kitchen.

Her message was consistent: whatever you do, do it to the best of your ability. Go the extra mile. Make it look beautiful just because.

I used to marvel at her energy. She was the first one up and the last to bed, always working, always doing, usually for others.

When my babies came, she taught me how to care for them. She was their second mom and I always felt comfortable leaving my children in her care. I knew she loved them at least as much as I did. I am forever grateful that my children got to have all those comfortable memories of time spent at Grandma’s.

mildred3

Photo owned by www.shelleygoldbeck.com

She was our moral barometer. When the girls were teens and trying out racy language, they would claim it wasn’t so bad. “Would you say it front of Grandma?” They would hang their heads, “No.” Settled. If we were ashamed to do it in front of Grandma it was likely shameful.

She and I used to talk for hours on the phone or play games Sunday afternoons when the men were napping off their big meal. Those conversations shaped my thinking. Mildred also influenced me by sharing her self-help library. To this day my reading includes self-help books, which most people find boring.

Mildred had class, quiet dignity. She genuinely cared about people. She was happy in her roles of wife, mother, grandmother and homemaker.

Luckily, I see Mildred in my girls. R____ has her darker skin and hair and voluptuous figure. She reveals her pain through her eyes, just like her grandma. She is also meticulous in everything she does. H____ shares her openness, loving spirit and her innate sense of morality.  She thrives on company too. My girls both appreciate having known this wonderful woman and they acknowledge her profound influence in their lives.

As I compile this, the memories of her love flood my mind and it’s hard to choose which should be included.  The most indelible one is this:

My grandma and Mildred were neighbours and friends for decades and forever connected through their descendents. In the last years they were in the same seniors lodge for a time.

My grandma began to deteriorate. At one point she was unable to walk to the dining room for lunch. The lodge wasn’t exactly accommodating.

One day my sister arrived at the lodge in time to see this: Grandma was perched on the seat of Mildred’s walker. Mildred, bad heart and bad hip notwithstanding, was pushing Grandma slowly towards the dining room.

This image of my finishing mom supporting my second mom, regardless of the hardship it might cause her, is the statement of how Mildred lived her life. It is how I will forever remember her.

In service to others in her own quiet way. With a smile and great love.

“There is no greater love than to give one’s life for a friend.”

Thank you, Mildred, for finishing me, for being my grandma’s longest friend and for helping me raise my daughters. I could not have walked this way without you.