"Ally's Long Night"

When I was six years old, I was completely obsessed with babies. I'd beg my mother to have another baby and she'd tell me that her body couldn't carry any more babies; so then I'd move on to begging her to adopt a baby, or perhaps we'd be the lucky family to find a cardboard box on the side of some dirt road that held a newborn babe in it, certainly a baby meant to be my little sibling. While I continually searched the sides of roads on long drives into Amarillo from Dumas Texas with no boxes bearing a baby to be found, I busied myself with my small collection of baby dolls. Bathing them in the bathroom sink (which also to my chagrin) required pulling the doll's rubber heads off in order to empty the water that would inevitably fill the dolls body. After giving a warm bath with a bar of Ivory soap, I'd take the two parts of the baby dolls in each of my arms and hand them to my mother so she could reattach them, and I could proceed to diaper, dress and bonnet them and finally read my library books to them before tucking them into their little wooden dolly crib. Parenting my baby dolls was a lot of work but it was my greatest joy. Now and then I'd ask my mother to take a picture of me holding my babies, and when I got a little older she'd let me use the camera myself and I'd pose them on a blanket or out on the grass, so proud of how cute they looked all bathed and in their ruffly dresses.

All my life I've heard all the typical things people say about time flying, or how when you're young you can't wait to be older and when you're older you wish you could have you're younger self back so you could appreciate what you had. Of course none of those things resonate while you're in the midst of the middle years. Those years that feel never-ending. The middle years are fraught with so much. Like so MUCH. So much is mundane and ordinary. And there are the pivotal life-changing things. The middle years brought me seven real life babies. Aging parents. Teenagers with hormones and unique individual personalities, talents, and struggles. Then they have found and are finding and adding their own people. Both of my parents passed. My middle years gave me back the love of my life. I now live in a world that is a continuum of feeling extraordinarily fulfilled, while feeling desperately empty of the chaos, noise, and even my skin not having the touch of a child's hand patting my leg, a baby's bottom on my hip, or my sleeplessness no longer caused by waiting up for teenagers to come home, but now for no reason at all except the racing through my mind of all these very things.

Dave tells me the kids asked him "What does she want for her 60th birthday?" He tells me that he told them (correctly) "All she wants is to be surrounded by all of you." So that's exactly what they did. They got together and planned a surprise weekend for all of us to be under one roof. They planned the entire weekend at Bear Lake and all Dave and I had to do was show up. Extra bonus points for Ed and Fran being in town to join us! When we walked into the house and we heard "SURPRISE!!!" and I saw all of my people and their people, I could hardly speak for the tears.

Remi handed me a little book and asked if I would read it to her later on. I couldn't believe it. Elisabeth found the book I'd been pining for and bought it for me as a birthday gift. Priceless!

Remi is now the age I was when I used to check that book out from the library.

The kids served an amazing bbq chicken dinner while I read through all the home-made birthday cards they'd made for me. My nose was so stuffy from crying, I had to stop reading them so I could eat.

The littles and the babies were tired, so everyone started to find their separate areas so we could get a fresh start on a fun day at the lake next morning.

Hours of sand-castle building, wading in warm clear water, jet-skiing and a lunch of leftover cold bbq chicken and watermelon, it was time to pack up and head into Garden City for linner at Zipz for some of their famous burgers and shakes.

We got back to the house we all wandered out to various parts of the lawn and the deck.

Semba knows how to liven up a party! She brought her karaoke machine and everyone was now rested and ready to get their American Idol superstar on. She also sang one of the most beautiful renditions of "Killing me Softly" I've ever heard (backed up by Bronson's occasional "Uh Uh....one time") I mean really she should try out for American Idol for real!

Some dancing to Fergalicous Fergie Ferg....

And some slow family dancing to Grandpa Ed's rendition of a few Dean Martin's greatest hits.

And now time for cake and singing. And because if you know me you know I'm not a big fan of cake so a pan of brownies worked just fine.

If the candles would have stayed lit long enough for me to have made a wish, I would've asked for exactly what I got. To be surrounded by all the noise, music, chaos and love that I'd experienced this whole week-end. As my mama oft repeated from her beloved singer John Denver's lyrics, "If I had a day that I could give you....I'd give to you a day just like today..."

A few of us stayed up a little too late that night quietly visiting on the back deck and watching the occasional shooting star. "Well how 'bout that...." I thought to myself as we gave our hugs goodnight. "I've stayed up late on my 60th birthday party; just like the little girl Amy in my little book." Six years old or sixty years old, wishes can still come true.