Birthday Fun at Ninety-four

Today Lenore Skirvin Bilodeau turned 94. Doug's mom didn't remember it was her birthday when we picked her up at the nursing home, but boy, she sure was happy to know she had a party to attend! She had to ask a number of times on the way there where we were going and whose birthday was it. Not that it mattered. She was just glad to be going.

Two sheet cakes were hidden in the back seat, one fudge chocolate and a white one proclaiming "Happy Birthday Lenore". We picked up our son Josh from work and hit the road. Doug was awfully tired today, so he had Josh take over the driving. Lenore is always impressed to see little Joshie can drive so well. I reminded her he's been driving for 10 years now, which impresses her even more, as if they must let 5 yr olds drive these days!

It was a good family gathering with folks from 4 to 94. We met at a little restaurant in Ellettsville, abt 7 miles west of Bloomington. The Village Inn has pretty decent home-style cooking, except the mashed potatoes aren't real, which is how I judge "home-style". But tonight the special was their fried chicken dinner, and it beats the hail out of KFC, in my opinion.

The long tables were already pushed together and most of the relatives were seated and chatting up a storm. When our branch arrived, that made 15 of us. That poor waitress. And the cook! They couldn't get enough chicken fried at the same time, so some of us got served and finished while others still waited, grumbling about the service. Everything was GOOOOOD, though! Even the hungry grumblers agreed, once they got food in their bellies.

Lenore doesn't always remember people by their names when we talk about them, but when she sees them, she recognizes everyone. And she lights up like a kid on Christmas! She has to go through the list of who's no longer with us and needs reminders of a few who've passed in the last decade or so. Then she says how much her sister Margarite would enjoy this. Indeed, Marg was a favorite aunt with a strong cheerful presence and a knack for baking mouth-watering black raspberry cobbler from the fruit of their own backyard. And she is missed.

Lenore sat next to her little brother, Jack, who's about 87 and nearly deaf, but they're the last in their generation of the 8 Skirvin kids. I'm sure inside they still are those kids when they get together. Gabbing & gobbling & gossip & giggles were rampant, until I carried the white birthday cake w/ red sugar roses and 3 glowing candles over to Lenore. The whole restaurant filled to the rafters with 15 voices (or more if other folks joined in) singing the Birthday Song for her 94^th time. The family has a tradition of putting only 3 candles once there gets to be enough to set off a smoke alarm. One candle each for Past, Present, and Future. Makes it a pretty sure thing they all get blown out!

Lenore got gushy cards that everyone there meant sincerely, even if they didn't make up the words. She was pleased with her watch and sweater and framed photo of her with Doug at a recent event. Most put in a little money toward some new clothes she needs.

But the most memorable gift was a gorgeous framed photo of Lenore taken in a studio when she was a lovely young woman in her 20's. It's stunning and uncharacteristically glamorous for this frugal lady who worked as a respected book-keeper into her 80's. Doug's cousin Kathi found the old photo and had it enlarged. Everyone gathered around wowing over it. We were all eager to know when it was taken. Unfortunately, Lenore had no idea, but she seemed as pleased to see it as if it were new.

Half an hour or so of hugs & good-byes, gathering gifts, cards, cakes & leftovers, we were headed back to Bloomington with Josh and Lenore. She asked the whole way if we might've left anything there and had she remembered to say bye to everyone. Then she'd say, as always, "My mother used to brag about my memory, but it's not so great anymore." Then Doug and I reassure her, as always, sharing incidents of our own memory lapses and tell her not to worry, 'cause we'll take her right to her room. She gets anxious over how she'll find her way back there again every time we take her out.

Back in the early-Alzheimer's unit, we helped her settle in, but Lenore had to keep checking her closet and drawers to make sure everything was ok, while I got her flowers into a vase and taped the cards to her closet door. When I set the gorgeous photo of Lenore on her dresser, she said, "Oh, let's put that in a drawer so nothing will happen to it." We tried to reassure her that all her other pictures were still fine, and nothing would happen, and that Kathi gave it to her to show off in her room. She'd be ok for a moment; then as if that never happened, she'd pop out of bed to "put that in a drawer so nothing happens to it." Three different night nurses came by, admiring it to high heaven, which brought Lenore back to wanting to keep it safely hidden away. Well, her glowing young face was still sitting there on the dresser when we kissed her sweet crinkly one goodnight. But I won't be a bit surprised next time we go if she's "put it away safe in a drawer". The way she'd no doubt store her memories if she could.