Seventieth Birthdays

My parents' 70th birthdays were coming up and my sisters and I were wracking our brains trying to come up with something special for each of them. At 70, one seems to have everything one's ever needed, right? You're fine on home goods, furniture, clothes, hobbies. You don't really need a trip, although it would be nice if it's somewhere calm and quiet without too much heat or walking. Anything that someone's going to give you should be pretty thoughtful, right? After all, you've been on this earth for 70 years and that's long enough for people to know your heart's desires.

We bought a few things - both parents have birthdays around holidays (Mom - Mother's Day, Dad - Father's Day), so they've gotten screwed on gifts for many, many years. They deserved it! But we were still trying to decide on something so special that it would show them exactly how much they mean to us, and something that they'd think about it for years afterwards.

Finally, we had it! We decided that everyone would come up with 5-10 memories of each of them - enough to equal 70. Then we'd print them out on nice paper and stuff them in a pretty ceramic pot. To bring it all together, I wrote a poem for each of them.

Mom's birthday was first. I bought a beautiful vase thing from Michael's, put it all together and sent it to my sister in Michigan, whose family would be celebrating in person with them.

Memories included:

• When Nana taught us that fish eat hot dogs (Ollie)
• I love it when she packs snacks for our trips home (Jax)
• I love shopping with her and going to downtown Holland - just her and I (Kenzie)
• When she bummed a cigarette from the pastor at our wedding (Jay)
• During a sleepover of mine, she took all my underwear and put it in the freezer. My friends still talk about it (Jess)
• When she cleaned up all my scrapes and covered me in band-aids after a terrible bike spill. She cleaned me up so I could still make it to the neighbor girl's birthday party (Courtney)
• When Nana cut the lip off a fish when we were fishing at Great Grandma's condo with pliers (Mallory)
• When she sings and scratches my arm (Elliott)
• Blood brothers - when she stabbed herself first before giving me a shot (Brian)
• When she and I bonded over stuffing Blaine's butt with gauze after her surgery (Doug)
• When she told me I should learn sign language because I had beautiful hands (Blaine)

The poem I wrote for her was:

Momeries:

A lifetime of stories

A lifetime of fun

A lifetime of activities

A lifetime of love

A lifetime of accidents

A lifetime of joys

A lifetime of hard work

A lifetime of toys

A lifetime of yeses

A lifetime of noes

A lifetime of "maybe next time"

A lifetime of clothes

A lifetime of haircuts

A lifetime of bleach

A lifetime of "just because"

A lifetime to teach

A lifetime of "I'm bored"

A lifetime of "why?"

A lifetime of support

A lifetime of "Just try"

A lifetime of ice cream cones

A lifetime of dues

A lifetime of tripping

Over casually thrown shoes

A lifetime of cooking

A lifetime of chatter

A lifetime of humor

A lifetime to matter

A lifetime to gather

To make sure we say

We've watched you show your love

In big and small ways

So on this special day

From far and away

We join together

To say HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Dad's birthday was the month afterwards. Courtney, who is a potter/ceramist, made his pot, which he promptly dropped and shattered a few days after he received it. Butter fingers. :) He decided to make it into a scrapbook so he could show it to people and read it whenever he wanted.

Memories from the family for Dad included:

• Picking me up from school every time I had a migraine. Once he thought I was lying to get out of school. He found me crumpled up on the bathroom floor half paralyzed. I wasn't lying Dad! (Blaine)
• Converting YouTube videos from computers to phones, trading new music and TV shows while bullshitting about politics (Doug)
• When he read me the "Poo" book (Ollie)
• Whistling to classic rock in the truck, running errands. And how we often whistle the same part after several minutes of silence - mind-blowing! (Courtney)
• When he hurts his hands and we nurture him (Elliott)
• Helping him get upstairs after he took an Ambien too soon. "Good night, mate!" (Jay)
• Putting up the "Light of Brian" and the Hemlock deck demo (Brian)
• Singing Beatles songs on the way to school for Pop Drop (Mallory)
• When I had made up my mind that I was going to buy a Mazda Miata when I lived in South Bend. You went with me to the dealership and hated every minute; you knew I was making a huge mistake. But the salesperson ended up being such a chauvinist pig that I stood up and walked out - just like you would have done (Jessica)
• When he lets me sit on his chair with him (Kenzie)
• He said, "Come on Jax, you can do it!" when I climbed the rock wall (Jax)

Dad's Poem:

There once was a man from the Big Brook

His name was Marc Stephen Cook

He was born in June

Under a wild crescent moon

And he never did a thing by the book

This man had great athletic knack

He played b-ball, footie, baseball and track

His friends called him Stretch

Before each game he was retch

But then go out and lay down the smack

Marc grew up with Midwestern others

Two sisters, his parents and a brother

A good Christian boy

He was never deployed

But panic he did cause his mother

He, in those days, really "swell"

Cute, funny and smart as well

He dated around

With the popular crowd

And it was a beauty for whom he fell

Paula Francine we now know

A farm girl from Chicago

She had wit, she had poise

Made a whole lotta noise

She was more than just a hoe to row :)

Their pairing was a complete thrill

He proposed at the top of a hill

He started a biz

She popped out three kids

And with love their paid their bills

Jessica, Courtney and Blaine

Grew up to be successful dames

They each snagged a mate

(Don't worry, they're straight)

Wonderful parents they all became

Fast forward before we get sappy

The two are retired and happy

Of grandkids they have five

Who make them feel alive

When they don't get in the way of a nappy

A fine man Marc Cook became

Many a friend he could name

Take a dang bullet

His friends would should it

Be a request he may exclaim

He's living the grandest good life

Bum teeth cut out with a knife

Listening to rock and blues songs

Whistling merrily along

And watching sunsets with his wife

So to Marc we say Happy Birthday

He's seventy years today

He can be a grouchy old fart

But also a sweetheart

Eh, we adore him either way

We love you, Marc Stephen Cook

You gave us a positive outlook

You chose a good girl

You gave us the world

And you've done everything by the book

Both parents absolutely ADORED their memories. After opening, we laughed over a few of them and retold some stories. We were able to watch Mom open her present over Zoom and to be with Dad in Lake of the Ozarks for a family reunion on his birthday. Both of them have taken to reading some of them each day together.

If you're a follower of this blog (thank you for staying with me over the years!) you'll know that my parents mean the world to me - and to our family, friends, and many others. We are so blessed to have been chosen to be their children, to grow up with them and watch our children be captivated by them as well. I hope all of you have someone in your lives for whom you would hobble to the ends of the earth!

For more information on Marc, visit: http://dougandblaine.blogspot.com/2012/06/happy-papa-day.html

For more information on Paula, visit: http://dougandblaine.blogspot.com/2012/05/happy-mothers-day.html