Everyone Deserves a Birthday Party

Hello!

Well, it happened again. My son Ben taught me another humbling life lesson I am compelled to share with you.

Twenty-five years ago, on March second my son was born. The moment he was placed in my arms, I knew I was in for a life full of lessons. Motherhood was a difficult occupation for me to embrace. Early on in Ben’s and my time together my inner voice whispered bits and pieces of what our life was to be like. In time, each insight revealed itself and the lessons began.

Birthdays are difficult for me. It is not the aging that causes the grief inside of me; it is the celebration. My first celebration with Ben began on the day of his birth. He was born at 7:41 PM on a Sunday night in 1986. Four hours later I turned 25 years old. Since his birth, he has been called “my birthday present.” (If you are counting on your fingers, this year marks my fiftieth birthday.)

Over the years, since Ben’s birth, throwing birthday celebrations were a mixture of excitement and stress. At first, his parties involved family and making sure both sides of the family were included in the activities. As Ben grew and especially after his brain tumor’s appearance, Ben’s birthdays held a different level of stress and poignancy for me.

Pre-brain tumor, Ben had a large group of friends and he was invited to numerous birthday gatherings. After the diagnosis, over time, his friendships changed and for years he was not invited to any parties at all. Then after we moved to a new home, in a different school district, he was placed in a special education learning environment. Because of a combination of a new school and his isolated learning environment, it was sufficient to say, social outings of any kind were scarce.

It was so hard to know how to plan a birthday celebration for Ben. My family was always terrific, every year making the trek to our home to celebrate another year with Ben. Honesty, every year post-treatment was an occasion to celebrate. Through it all, Ben as always, celebrated his special day in genuine gratitude, excitedly thanking everyone for their gifts and spending the day with him.

So this year, on his 25th birthday, I felt very committed to giving him a happy day.

Ben lives in a group home with two other twenty-somethings. He is very happy living “on his own” and the people who supervise the house are very good with the guys. I however, being his mother felt an extra obligation to be certain that this year, his twenty-fifth, was a wonderful special day.

For this year’s birthday celebration, I did not want to ask my family to make the journey (for some a few hours journey) to his home. My sisters have children of their own who are busy with sports and weekends are times to catch up. I did not want to burden them with another responsibility. So I asked Ben what kind of party he wanted.

Ben, always the sweetest person I know, enthusiastically replied, “This year mom, I want a friend-party.” Smiling, I responded, “Okay sweetie,” all the while wondering who would he invite and how could I make this happen.

During our discussion, Ben decided to invite three boys from his day habilitation group and his two roommates. He invited Ken, a blind man in his forties, Chris and Geof, two twenty-somethings from his day hab and then Jonathan and Jeremy his house-mates.

Ben wanted Pizza Hut stuffed crust pizza, chips and salsa, and diet Dr. Pepper and Pepsi. He was determined to write out the invitations and hand-deliver them.

Already feeling my stress level rise, I put into action his desires. I bought party decorations and dropped them at his house. He was going to decorate. I bought his chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and orange trim and his party food, and brought it over the night before his party. I ordered the pizza, picked it up and delivered it to his house fifteen minutes before the party began.

Everything was under control, except for entertainment. I wracked my brain the entire week, trying to figure out what the boys were going to “do” at the party. I did not know how I was going to incorporate a blind forty-something and five disabled twenty-somethings in fun activities. I was unsure of how I was going to keep everyone talking and happy and entertained.

The night before the party, I still had not solved this dilemma and spent a good amount of time, talking with the house staff about what to do. Both Matt and Sarah did not think the entertainment issue was a big problem at all. They repeated to me, “It will be fine. Everything will work out.” Of course, I was certain that was not so.

The day of his party, I pulled into Ben’s driveway at 12:45 PM. I knocked on the door of his house and Ben excitedly let me in. Jeremy was full of joy as he proudly showed off his birthday decorating skills. Ben took me on a tour of streamers and balloons telling me how each decoration got to its rightful place. (Jonathon was away, so he did not attend the party.)

At 1:00 PM, Geof walked in the house holding a big red birthday bag for Ben. Jeremy excitedly placed it on the table next to his birthday card for Ben. Shortly after Geof’s arrival Chris came, dropped off by his father. Chris handed Ben a yellow birthday bag, Jeremy put it on the table and Chris began talking excitedly about coming to Ben’s party.

And so it began. (Ken did not come, much to Ben’s dismay.)

The boys sat at the table and ate the Pizza Hut pizza-all of them repeating how it was their favorite. While they were eating they got out their cameras and took pictures of each other, the pizza, the decorations and Ben. They talked non-stop, laughing and telling stories about day-hab and their lives.

I took a seat in the corner and watched.

About 45 minutes later, they wanted the cake. So, I put the cake on the table and they all proceeded to take pictures of the cake. Then they took pictures of Ben and me with the cake. And then they took pictures of Ben cutting the cake. (There are no candles allowed in the group home.) They ate the cake and laughed and did not stop talking the entire time.

I sat in my seat and listened.

After cake they wanted Ben to open his presents. Jeremy asked if he could deliver the presents to the table and Ben said yes. So off he went and proudly he handed the gifts to Ben.

Ben opened Jeremy’s gift first. Jeremy was so excited. Ben opened the card and since he can not read allowed me to read it to him. Jeremy could not wait to have the card read out loud. On the front of the card was a funny character. It was saying that the picture on the front was not the only reason Jeremy picked out this card for Ben’s birthday. Then you opened the card and the character said, he checked out the cost too.

Well, the boys roared with laughter. Jeremy gave Ben a gift card to Game Stop.

I laughed in my corner.

Then Ben opened the card from Chris. On the card front was a picture of a grassy hill and two characters. The first character was being pushed up the hill by the second character. The inside of the card read, “Here’s to being over the hill.”

The boys roared with laughter. Chris gave Ben money and cool hiking gadgets.

I smiled in my corner.

Lastly Geof excitedly handed Ben his gift. Ben opened the card. I read it, and noticed the proudly displayed handwritten signature. Then Ben opened the bag. He took out some tissue paper and there was nothing in it. Geof started to giggle. Then Ben took out more tissue paper with nothing in it and Geof giggled louder and Chris and Jeremy started to laugh. This repeated itself two more times. The boys, including Ben, were laughing and I was a little worried. At the bottom of the bag was a DVD of Johnny Depp’s version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The boys were agog with chatter about the movie. Geof was proud that he fooled Ben.

I admired the boys from my corner.

When the present-opening was finished the boys decided they wanted to play a board game. One of the house staff helped with the game. Seeing as I did not have to entertain the guys, I cleaned the kitchen and reflected on the lessons I had learned.

Lessons learned by Donna:

1. It was time for me to get off of my throne. I am not the center of running Ben’s life. Ben is capable and connected to a group of terrific fellas.

2. It does not matter the mental, physical, or cognitive state of these fellas. Friends are friends and within that context there are conversations, jokes and silliness.

3. It is more fun to sit in the corner and watch things unfold. I do not have to plan the menu, decorate the house or find fun activities to do.

4. Everyone deserves birthday parties.

And so the saga of Ben’s lessons continues in my life. And I humbly learn them once again as they are taught to me by my best birthday present of all, Ben.

Next party….mine!!

Have hope,
Donna