I’m happy to say that I started 2015 off right by properly lying, hiding things and sneaking around. I’m usually against such acts, but this January was different.
My mother, Faye VanKleek, was turning 70 years old and she had hinted in late November that she wanted a surprise party. My sister Cathy and I were determined to get a party together for her from afar — Mom lives in Calgary and my sister and I are both in B.C. now — but that meant much lying, secrecy and sneaking around.
While some may get excited about the chance to legitimately lie to their parents, it wasn’t fun for me. If I have news, I tend to want to share it, and my Mom and I talk often enough that I found myself cutting conversations short just so I wouldn’t say something stupid.
The words “we’ve got a big surprise planned” always seemed to come to mind within moments of hearing her voice on the phone, especially when she started to sound forlorn about “nothing special happening” for her birthday this year.
We had come too far for me to break in the home stretch, though, so I did what any kid lying to their parent would do — I avoided her.
Those last few days before my sister and I were set to board our flight back to Calgary for the surprise party, we were physically ill with the excitement of it all.
We had spent weeks hand-crafting blinged-out decorations and party favours and collecting stories of Mom for a newspaper article and booklet for her “70 and Sensational” themed party. We made 1940s related games and created special trivia boards asking questions like, “what nutrient-killing kitchen appliance was patented in 1945?” in honour of Mom’s formative years. The answer is, of course, the microwave, which I remember we had front and centre in our kitchen complete with a cookbook for how to make everything from porridge to steak in it — just one of the many things we loved back then that we later found out were harmful to our health.
Cathy and I organized everything for the party with my Mom’s best friend Heather, who offered her home to host the shindig.
At first we thought we might get 10 people to come out, taking into consideration Mom’s friends are getting older and the weather in Calgary in January can be tricky to drive in at times. After a few phone calls and a poster at Mom’s old work, there were almost 30 people confirmed.
Everything seemed to be coming together wonderfully, like it was meant to be. Even the ability for Cathy and me to attend fell into place just a few weeks before the party. Every door we needed to open swung open wide, and later I found out why. My mother had been praying that she would receive “some sort of special surprise,” so God was pulling the strings from the start!
I’m just glad He decided to use my sister and me to deliver that special surprise, because the moment was magical. I’ll never forget the love that filled the room for my mother and the way it touched her heart.
I wish I could start every year that way.
