Returning Home: Mom's Surprise 70th Birthday Party

February, 2012: Just before Christmas in 2011, my Uncle David had called me to ask if my dad had anything planned for my Mom's 70th birthday this year, and if so, if he could be involved in some way.  I let him know that we hadn't discussed anything as of yet, but we could definitely figure out something.  This single conversation started what would soon one of the greatest days my family has had in almost as long as I can remember.

I was still unemployed, aside from a register gig at a coffee shop in The Pearl and a few freelance jobs that I was able to tackle every few weeks, but I felt as if I was closing in on what would soon become my career in Portland.  So, when considering how much I'd be spending on a flight back to Cleveland, there was no question.  I found a place to board Kino for the week, reserved my flight and without a single ounce of suspicion from my Mom, flew back to Cleveland on a cold rainy night.

Garrett picked me up and we immediately hit the bars in Tremont, a favorite area of both of ours which I used to frequent at least a few times a week.  Our first stop was the Flying Monkey, but the celebration of my first night back in town in eight months turned into an all-out bar crawl, ending with pure, random hilarity...that of me getting tazed by a crazy woman in Edison's.  Yeah.  ...it was one of those kinds of nights.

For the next few days, I hid my location from my Mom.  Still thinking I was in Portland, I kept a fairly low profile, catching up with a few close colleagues and friends, making a few new ones, checking out how my house in Old Brooklyn was holding up and dropping in for a surprise visit at my old office downtown.  During this time, Garrett was starting a commission for the city of Cleveland to paint one of the large guitar monuments peppered around town, so our other friend Dawson and I helped him pick up the 10-ft guitar at the Sherwin-Williams warehouse and haul it to the improvised studio where he would be working on it for the next few weeks.  In what seemed not even a day, Saturday morning had rolled around and i was packed and ready to leave. shortly before noon, my close friend Katie picked me up in Tremont to drive with me down to Youngstown's Stambaugh Auditorium for my Mom's big surprise.

Much had evolved since that first conversation with my uncle a few months before. For starters, my dad arranged the rental of an entire ballroom at Stambaugh, set aside specifically for the party. Secondly, all my mom's friends from her different walks of life were coming. Teachers, sorority sisters, neighbors, local family and close friends. Additionally, there would be a full spread of food and wine to feed everyone; sandwiches, hor d'oeuvres, the works. And finally, each of my mom's remaining siblings would be there, and she had no idea. This was huge. Her birthday would mark the first time, after nearly 15-year long period of estrangement, that they would all be back in the same room together again. Leave it to my mom, the oldest of the Vimmerstedt clan, to unknowingly bring them all back together again.

She thought she was seeing an afternoon concert in the upper ballroom with my Dad.  Imagine her surprise when she walked in and started recognizing faces.  One, then a few, then many, all applauding her entrance.  She was floored.

Then, from around the corner, walked her younger brother Rick, who, in typical Rick-fashion, made a light-hearted quip about her looking halfway good for being an old lady and embraced her in a way that only a younger brother could.  Before she could comprehend the moment, Susan, my Mom's only living sister, entered the room with her husband Jim following closely behind.  More tears and hugs followed as the room, still applauding looked on.  Next came in David, her youngest living brother, along with his wife Ellen and the youngest of their two sons, Danny.  In the midst of all her siblings and the wave of emotions that she experience in just a few short minutes, we could clearly tell that she was completely overwhelmed, so it shouldn't be a surprise that as I entered the room last and stood nearly ten feet away from her, I went completely unnoticed.  In fact, in her effort to absorb all the faces around her, some of which she saw every day, and others, whom she had barely seen in years, it took her nearly an entire minute to realize that I was actually there. But when she did, by God did she scream.  I'm not sure she's ever been so happy to see me in her life.  Not in my memory, anyway. So I gave her an enormous hug, kissed on the cheek and said three words;

"Happy Birthday, Mom." 

Over the course of the next few hours, we celebrated like we had never done so before.  I have never seen my family and my parent's friends so happy.  We ate loads of food, had a ridiculous amount of cake and traded the mass amount of stories all of us shared with her.  We were all (mostly) together again and it was all on the account of my Mom.  She was however, slightly miffed upon finding out that I had been in town for nearly three days without seeing her.  I'm pretty sure she would've clobbered me for that had she been able to find the strength.  As it turns out, seeing your brothers and sisters together again in one spot for the first time in over fifteen years can be slightly draining.  Not to mention, all the friends and close relatives that had shown up as well.  By the end of the party though, I think she was able to find it in her heart to forgive me.

My remainder of time spent in Youngstown with my family involved visiting the tombstones of my grandparents and reminiscing about the glory days of a now disheveled, ghost of a city. Over the next few days, we all returned home, one by one, leaving my mom with the memory of one of the best birthdays of her life.  I, naturally was the last to leave and spent those last few days in the company of both my parents as much as possible before returning to Cleveland for my flight home.  Even though I'm just getting to writing about this now, the memories of that weekend ring as clear today as they did a year and a half ago.  I'll never forget it.  And I know for certain, that neither will she.