The Counting Skunks Tour 2009

In order to provide the perspective necessary to appreciate why I was nearly a no-show at Mom's party, let me roll back the calendar to the earlier months of 2009. Ahh, yes, 2009 - the year that, if it could go wrong, not pan out, break, disappear or devastate us, it did. Here are some of the "lowlights" of the year:

To say we had income challenges would be like saying that hurricane Katrina was "quite a storm." The "no money" cloud followed us throughout the entire year with the diminishing of my daycare business to its ultimate demise. Meanwhile, Scott's technical support business floundered as well, making for a crippling confluence of economic factors.

In May we were sideswiped by a semi and our car was totaled. Our only car. Our car that was completely paid for. Our car we relied upon and maintained in perfect condition. That car. Of course, the fortunate thing was that neither of us were injured. Shook up, angered and frustrated - but not physically hurt. We were absolutely and immediately aware of that fact and imminently grateful for it. That incident was the perfect example of how difficult "good" was to find. The bad thing had to happen first, then we had to dig through the rubble for the kernel of good. Do you know the story of the little girl and the pile of manure? Yeah, that was our 2009. It was a year daring us to say things were bad, just so it could demonstrate how profoundly bad they really could be.

Just when we thought we knew sadness, June brought us heartbreak. That was when our dear cat, Abbey, passed away quite suddenly. Abbey was no ordinary pet - she was a very special friend who had a unique hold on our hearts. We shared an intimate emotional relationship with her and she with us. The pangs of her absence still stab at us each and every day.

Depressed yet? We sure were. That's probably enough of the gory details of 2009 to give you a glimpse of our circumstances. During the Summer we received the invitation to Mom's surprise 90th birthday party. My reaction was yet another of those cases of "Good news, bad news" that had haunted us throughout the year. First, "Yea! The sibs are planning a party for Mom and I'm invited!" (The last part of that sentence is my own inside joke that I'll expound upon at another time.) Next reaction, "Crap! There's no way in hell we can afford to take a trip to Colorado!" Although my relationship with my family has been "complicated" in the past, I wanted to attend this event with all my heart. It seemed just another thing we would have to forego in this discouraging year.

Even when Scott's awesome family offered to help with travel expenses, we were hesitant to accept because of exigent circumstances. Those included the fact that although I was down to only two children in my daycare, no workey meant no money. We couldn't decide whether it was better to fly in for a pricey yet quick trip or drive, which would mean more time away from income. It was an excruciating decision, with no clear "right" answer. There is nothing worse for me than feeling like I have no viable options. So there we had it - yet another untenable set of circumstances in the year. Yet another dream dashed in 2009.

After weeks of deliberation, we finally came up with the best possible solution - we drove (the replacement car that will never live up to our original but that we had to, of course, fight tooth and nail with the insurance company to get). We took along Scott's mom who helped with driving so we could make the trip without stopping at a motel.

It is our custom to start such road trips at night. Scott drove the 18 hour Illinois-to-Colorado road many times throughout his college years and we've done it a couple times together since then. He says that by starting at night, he can get a good chunk of the driving done by morning. When morning breaks, it is his custom to stop for pancakes and coffee, then hit the road again, energized for the home stretch. This trip, through the dark miles of Illinois and Iowa, we were treated to the enchanting aroma of skunks - lots of them. We counted a total of 14 separate smelly encounters, which inspired a name for our adventure, The Counting Skunks Tour 2009.

Party day arrived and mom was indeed slightly surprised (which is actually more surprised than I'd ever seen her). More importantly, she was, to use her own phrase, "tickled pink" by the festivities. We did a very good thing there, kids. I am so glad that Mom was able to receive the gift of this party and that we were able to give it. It was the best gift we could have given her - the opportunity to see the family that is because of her.

The sign on the door of the banquet room in the church basement said "Family Reunion" and that it was. The party itself was a delight. I saw sisters I hadn't seen in many years, and met nieces and nephews (and their children) whom I'd never met. Conversations were easy and natural - like we'd never skipped a beat. The celebration was over too soon - I wanted more time to visit with these folks I hardly ever saw and I wanted to get to know. I felt a disappointment of a different kind: Something good had finally happened and I didn't want the experience to end. We walked out of the church into a torrential rainstorm, which mirrored my emotional state; it seemed the sky was crying on my behalf. Once in the car, the sky cleared and I beamed with happiness at the renewed relationships with my family and with the wonderful gift we had collectively granted Mom.

For the first time that whole year, the black cloud of doom and misfortune seemed to have lifted - if only for a short while. It was a party and it did what a party should do - make you forget your troubles and focus on celebration. In this case, it was the celebration of family and creating memories.

As I reflect upon that special day on this special day a year hence, I can glean a few truths: First, 2009 really, truly did stink, like 14 skunks, every single day. Second, no matter how bad things are, they can always get worse. Hey, I didn't say they were upbeat truths! But yes, there is one of those, too - and it is that even in a year when you feel you have less than nothing to give, you can actually give - and thereby receive - the best gifts of all. After all we went through, I treasure that perspective.

Happy birthday, Mom. I'm glad and proud that we gave you a fantastic 90th birthday bash where you could bask in the company of so much of your family. I know that brought you great joy. It's how I will always remember you on your birthday.