My mom held her holiday party last Sunday in her new home. Well, they've been there almost a year now, but this is her first Christmas there. As she hasn't been feeling all that energetic lately, she asked us all to pitch in. Of course we all said yes. She picked a date, sent invitations, counted the rsvps, and then got the news from her doctor that he was scheduling her surgery for that Monday.
"But," she said, "He told me I can do anything I want until midnight." So the party went on as planned.
My culinary school sister came down from Vermont to make appetizers and my daughter helped in the kitchen and later served them on silver trays. She also offered coffee and tea as she's in LOVE with my mom's new Keurig.
My sons both dressed up to greet guests and take coats at the door. I set up the bar and played bartender all night. My youngest sister floated around helping out and chatting with the neighbors. The guests all had a wonderful time, and so did my parents.
And Monday morning, she went to the hospital for surgery. Which went well. And she's doing fine. Yesterday when I was visiting her, I ran into one of the party guests who volunteers at the hospital.
"We were talking about how absolutely wonderful your mom's party was," Tricia told me, "And how none of us can have holiday parties this year, because now we can't compete with that!"
I told her to go visit my mom, and let her know.
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