I am scrambling around like a mad woman. This weekend is the celebration of my grandma’s 80th birthday. My co-worker laughed at my stress as I wrote out the lists of things I had yet to do to prepare, “What are you guys doing, throwing a big party?” She asked sarcastically. I looked her squarely in the eyes and said, “Yes, my grandma likes to party.”
She does, she really does.
You know how when you think of grandmas sometimes your mind goes to that unfortunate stereotype? Grandmas with white hair, the ones that smell like old and shuffle around in floral aprons? The grandmas that spend their days knitting and petting cats? The ones who bake all morning and nap all afternoon?
Well, that isn’t my grandma.
My grandma has an aura that dominates my world. She is my role model in how to live my life. Her motto? No guilt, no jealously. She thrives off of loving, could talk until the cows come home and has a laugh that shakes the foundations of unhappiness and doubt. Her bedroom is her boudoir, rich in reds and oriental accents. Here we host midnight tea parties and delve into her past escapades as the hours disappear.
To know my grandma is to know passion, humor and a tad bit of crazy. The kind of eccentricity that led to four marriages, a plethora of off-the-wall stories and a closet collaged with nearly nude/completely nude men (honestly, she calls it her butt wall). Her crazy leads to eye rolls and belly laughs, and to moments of shock and amazement at the things that come out of her mouth.
To put it simply, my grandma is unique.
So this weekend we will come together and celebrate the woman that we all know and love so deeply. We are celebrating her 80 years on this earth. Celebrate how people like her brighten this cynical place. She is a reminder to take yourself a little less seriously, take life as it comes and to always let your hair down.
Oh, and if there is anything I have learned from my grandma it is to ALWAYS have a back stock of wine and champagne. You never know when the opportunity to party will present itself.
Grandma Carol, I raise my glass to you. Happy birthday.
Yes, this is my grandma. Yes, she was made into a postcard. And yes, she is a total babe.