With everything that is happening in the world these days, it can easily feel like life is on hold. Indeed, we are working from home, limiting our in-person social contact, and curtailing visits to our favorite local hangouts. In many ways, it seems Summer 2020 has been officially cancelled, leaving fun seekers everywhere at a loss for what to do next.
But this, in fact, is not the case: Summer isn’t cancelled. And neither are the important celebrations and milestones that inevitably come with it. If anything, now more than ever, these events serve as pivotal reminders that despite tragedy, despite chaos and uncertainty, life beautifully marches on.
Yesterday marked an important milestone for my mom: Her 40th birthday[1]. In another world, I had big dreams for the birthday bash I wanted to throw in her honor, a party teeming with friends, family, and plenty of opportunities to celebrate the past, present, and future. On top of this, I was supposed to travel home to Chicago several times this summer to celebrate showers, weddings, and graduations, and all of these trips had been postponed as a result of COVID-19. With this litany of cancellations already in place, the thought of pulling together birthday festivities honestly slipped my mind. I would send Mom a thoughtful gift and plan to commemorate the major milestone later, I reasoned.
That was the only way.
Until Mom’s best friend texted me, that is.
“Katie, it’s Lori! Your mom has a big birthday coming up… What are we doing?!”
What are we doing?
It’s funny how such a seemingly simple question can effortlessly open a door of infinite possibilities. What are we doing? What can we do? Wait, we can really do anything!
A half hour phone call quickly ensued. Before long ideas were hatched, strategies were outlined, and plans of attack were swiftly set in motion.
But first, a little context.
Each summer the Puszka family waits in eager anticipation for Ravinia to release its annual concert lineup. The suburban outdoor music venue is a family favorite: With the live entertainment, great company, and summer nights spent under the stars, what’s not to love? However, this year, like many other events, the hallmark that defines our family summers was cancelled. And while this reality stung with a certain bitterness, it made recreating the Ravinia experience for Mom seem like an experience Lori and I couldn’t possibly pass up! In no time at all we had a plan: If we couldn’t bring Mom to Ravinia this season, then we would most certainly bring Ravinia to Mom. And what a surprise it would be!
Thus, we agreed Lori would coordinate flowers, balloons, and desserts, my brother Ryan would order food from a local restaurant for carryout, and I would arrange all logistical details including the guest list, necessary communications, and the ruse to get Mom out of the house.
I spent a week thumbing through my address book, inventing creative ways to procure the needed contact information I didn’t already have, and crafting thoughtful invites that would both express avid excitement for Mom’s birthday while still maintaining appropriate precaution for handling all-things Coronavirus.
Every day the surprise party grew closer and additional fun details began to take shape. More and more friends RSVPed “yes[2],” details for the ruse to get Mom out of the house came together quite nicely, and Lori frequently reached out with exciting updates, cleverly relaying her ongoing developments with unabashed excitement:
“Check out this throwback picture of your mom and I at Christmas!”
“I ordered the bundtinis from Nothing Bundt Cakes: We are ready to roll!”
“I got your mom a matching birthday sash and tiara! She’s going to both love it and hate it… But mostly hate it!”
Nothing could make quarantine more exciting.
This was going to be epic.
As the work week drew to a close, Mom informed me she planned to take the following week—her birthday week—off work. While I didn’t originally intend in partaking in the in-person festivities, something about this information particularly resonated with me: Mom would be off for one full week with nothing to do. And I was going to be stuck in Minneapolis, missing out on all of it.
Suddenly, my perspective began to shift. What was stopping me—really stopping me—from driving down and surprising Mom in person? Sure it would mean six hours on the road and a week away from Cam, but working from home gave me the freedom to make my location flexible in a way that pre-Coronavirus reality couldn’t have dreamed: It didn’t matter which “home” I was working from, as long as I was working, right? All at once the details clicked into place, and the stars aligned. How often does your mom turn 40 anyway[3]? And how often do you get to surprise someone? And was I really going to let myself miss out on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because of a little distance and a few minor logistical roadblocks?
What was really stopping me?
Why nothing at all.
With that, I ironed out the details, packed up my bags, and hit the road. I decided while I was at it I would use this opportunity to surprise everyone in my family, and I didn’t tell a single soul I was coming[4].
While I was a little daunted by the prospect of being in the
car for six hours by myself in a society where most restaurants and traditional
travel stops are closed[5], the time alone on the open road with the music
turned up and the sun warming my skin turned out to be exactly what I needed. I have ventured out very little since things shut
down in early March, and I didn’t realize how much I missed
driving. Perhaps nothing is more
liberating than knowing you can go anywhere with a tank of gas and a thermos
full of coffee, and I embraced this newly rediscovered freedom with open arms
and reckless very safe driving abandon.
I safely arrived six hours later only to be met with a potentially surprise-shattering problem. While I had thought through nearly every last party detail—from the timing of when guests would arrive to where they would inconspicuously park—I had failed to foresee one crucial aspect: How I would actually make an entrance. Since I’ve lived at my parents’ house, they have both changed the garage code and installed a robust security system that will alert them if anyone—even their own daughter—approaches unannounced. Now, I had no way of getting in the house unannounced unless someone physically let me in. In other words, it appeared that all my meticulous planning had ultimately been for naught. Not to mention it had been two hours since my last stop, and I really had to pee.
Not wanting to prematurely ruin the surprise of my arrival, my bladder ultimately got the better of me, and I frantically phoned Ryan several times, desperately hoping he would be home to let me in. But alas, he didn’t pick up! My bathroom dreams had been dashed, and I was left with a grim existential crisis: Was I really about to pee in the woods behind my parents’ house?
But, as fate would have it, just as I was wrestling with this
impossible decision I heard the garage door open and—behold!—Ryan emerged. With his back turned I had the perfect opportunity
to stealthily sneak up behind him and give Ryan a good proper startle
surprise. Truly, it’s a miracle neither
of us peed ourselves right then and there.
One surprise down. Three more to go.
Ryan, Olivia, and I finished setting up the backyard before sitting down with a beer to chat, cool off, and appreciate our efforts: We were actually going to pull this off! And then I remembered something.
“Ryan, you did confirm timing with Dad before he and Mom left, right?”
“Umm… No?”
“You didn’t? Well I talked to Dad on the phone yesterday to go over everything one last time, so he should be okay… Right?”
A chilling silence ensued. Who knew crickets could be so loud?
Frantically, Ryan texted Dad, anxious to confirm the most critical detail—Mom’s necessary absence and timely return—only to realize we were most decidedly not on the same page.
“You’re planning to get back at 6:30, right, Dad?”
Brief pause.
“I would prefer 6:15.”
With this, I lost it.
Prefer 6:15? Prefer 6:15? You don’t get to prefer anything! Just get Mom out of the house and keep her out until everything is in order.
I wasn’t about to have one week of planning and six hours driving across two state lines go to waste for fifteen damn minutes!
“Ryan, call Dad and figure something out. Stall. Lie. I don’t care what you do: Just do something!”
At that very moment my phone rang.
Mom.
What do I do? Pick up? Let it ring? My guilt got the better of me, and I inevitably answered.
“Hey, Mom! How are you? …Oh, nothing! I’m just sitting on the porch!”
I sprinted upstairs to be out of earshot, hoping desperately that Ryan had things handled. Mom asked me a series of questions—honestly, I have no idea what she said—we chatted and made some small talk—honestly, I have no idea what I said—and then I heard a phone ring… through Mom’s phone: It was Ryan. Dad answered, and I heard Ryan’s voice, both from the floor below and from the other line. Surely, we were about to ruin the surprise! With that, I panicked, dropped my phone, and promptly hung up, texting Mom that I had somehow “lost connection.” Then, I proceeded to sprint downstairs and get the details from my brother.
“What happened? Did you stall them? I think Mom knows!”
Well stall them he had: Ryan created a clever hoax that forced Mom and Dad to stop at the grocery store to pick up ingredients for the birthday dinner Ryan was supposed to be cooking at that very moment. Not only would this give us an extra fifteen minutes, but it was sure to lead Mom off the scent and leave her slightly disgruntled by the unexpected inconvenience, two details that would ultimately make the surprise even sweeter.
With that crisis narrowly averted, we jogged up to the front of the house where Mom’s friends had begun to arrive. Lawn chairs and presents in tow, these ladies marched towards the house with the fervor and excitement of individuals who haven’t seen non-family members in ages. Car by car, friends arrived, greeted us with unapologetic glee, and set up their supplies in the backyard. Miraculously, everything was in place. Now all we had to do was wait.
After what seemed an eternity, Mom and Dad finally arrived. Ryan and Olivia greeted them at the door, feigning they wanted to take Mom outside to show her what they had planted for her birthday.
The rest of us stood on the deck with bated breath, exchanging grins and brimming with excitement.
Then, the screen door slowly slid open.
Mom emerged.
SURPRISE!
Completely caught off guard, Mom grew paralyzed with pure shock, scanning the scene to make sense of what happening before her. Slowly, her friends’ individual faces started to come into focus.
“Oh my gosh! What are you doing here?!”
Her eyes welled with tears.
And then she saw me.
“And what are you doing here? You’re here, too?!”
That’s when she let loose. Tears streamed down Mom’s face as she gazed in wonder at the family and friends who had gathered together—despite the odds and the seemingly impossible circumstances—to pull off a surprise and celebrate her birthday. I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen Mom so happy. This is a woman who constantly puts others first, who perpetually extends a helping hand and remembers the small details and events that make others feel valued. And to witness her friends and family turn the tables and do something of this magnitude for her? That was better than any gift she could have asked for.
The rest of the evening unfolded better than I could have ever imagined. We ate, drank, social distanced, and talked into the night. For hours, our Ravinia playlist filled the backyard with fond memories of warm summer nights and even warmer friendships, and everyone reveled in the rare chance to enjoy one another’s company. Stories were told, laughter was shared, and memories were made. It was beautiful, it was magical, and I was so thrilled to be part of it. Despite it all—the distance, the planning, the near-ruinous ending—I knew I had made the right decision, and I couldn’t have been more thankful to partake in the stunning memory that unfolded around me.
Moments are fleeting, and time is more precious than gold. Celebrations and milestones demand to be recognized and made special, even if we can’t always do so in person or in the ways we originally intended. As Ferris Bueller famously ruminates in the final lines of his self-titled movie, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Life does indeed move fast. Crises and tragedies do, indeed, happen. Plans inevitably don’t go according to plan.
However, despite all of this, life is still moving quickly: Life is never on hold.
And it is up to us not to miss it. It is up to us to find the bright flecks amidst the murky darkness and create light that shines for everyone around us.
These are the golden moments.
These are the golden years.
These are the memories we will remember always.
[1] …Or something like that. Afterall, age is just a number, not a feeling.
[2] In fact, the return rate in which they responded “yes” was actually quite alarming. Did I just send a text at 11:51 only to have my phone buzz at 11:52? And again at 11:53? And again at 11:54, with a multitude of gracious offers outlining seemingly endless ways to contribute to the festivities? Clearly my communication touched on a greater pressing need: These ladies needed something to do—they were itching for an excuse to get out of the house—and they would be there come pandemic or high water, dammit!
[3] Once if you’re lucky. Twice if you’re really lucky…
[4] Afterall, these are crazy times: We could all use a little more excitement and intrigue!
[5] I have a humorously small bladder and drink a ridiculous amount of water and coffee: You do the math.
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