In 2025 we attended one too many celebrations of lives. With my mother-in-law’s birthday on the horizon, I wondered why do we wait until a person has passed to celebrate their impact? I had this idea to celebrate a life well lived, while she is still with us.
Full disclosure, my mother-in-law is healthier and more independent than most 70-year-olds. She lives mostly-independently, will walk a mile to Bingo if her ride cancels and she “doesn’t want to bother” her boys. Make sure you have made yourself right with your maker if you dare to sit in her bingo seat! She attends mahjong at the senior center, frequently kicks my ass a cribbage and while she has had a few health issues this year, at 94-years-young she is still living her best life.
We wanted to celebrate that life, while she was here to enjoy it. A few weeks ago, we held a surprise party (I know, throwing a “surprise” party might be ill-advised) that was attended by almost 70 of her fans from 2 years-old to 80-something. Those who could not attend, called and sent well wishes. She was beyond happy and could not believe “all the young people” who came to see her for her birthday.
At the end of her evening, as we sat around my kitchen with the last few family members and friends that are family, I asked what the most significant event witnessed in all of her years.
This woman was born just after the depression, was witness to WW2, The Korean War, Vietnam Conflict and the multiple wars in the Middle East. She was here for Pearl Harbor and 9/11, both tragedies.
In addition to hardships, my mother-in-law was witness to extreme technological advances. Most of which children of today take for granted. For example, not just having a telephone in your home but in your hand. The same for TV and computers. The invention of the microwave and a man walking on the moon.
She was here for desegregation, the polio vaccine, the creation of Earth Day and the fall of Communisim.
I truly was expecting her to say the invention of the Bingo Hall to be the most significant. Or meeting the man of her dreams. In all seriousness, I expected her to recall some historical nugget.
Instead, her answer was both simple and eloquent:
“When I was 10 years old I was adopted and that is the day I remember the most”
Most of us present knew she was adopted, her family history is something well known in the family and frequently spoken about.
What resonated with me, was that in 94 years her most significant event came down to family.
I have written frequently about my village. How thankful I am for their support of myself and Bridget. I know this life would be so much more difficult if it wasn’t for all of you who read my words, who meet me for a walk (or glass of wine).
Bridget would not have a diagnosis without all of you.
When I think back to Bridget’s 17-years, I am in marvel of the scientific advances that have occurred just in her lifetime. It took her almost 6 years to be diagnosed with a rare genetic syndrome. Twelve years later, children are diagnosed with PACS1 within months of birth.
Had Bridget been born 94 years ago, she would not have survived. Had she grown up in the 1970’s she would not have been educated. Had she been born in the early 2000’s it would have taken so much longer to be diagnosed. The evolutions in medicine, surgeries, special education and therapies have come so far just in her lifetime and beyond infinity in her grandmother’s lifetime.
My hope is that when I am 94 and someone asks me what the most significant event I was witness to in my lifetime I don’t focus on all Bridget has overcome but rather…
The family we have acquired thanks to her diagnosis.
In the end of our days, yes the advances of medicine, technology and world marvels will be important.
But signficant?
My mother-in-law was so right. The most significant event in our lives, if we are lucky, is the family you decide to make your own. Whether it is the family you are born into (and keep), married into (and keep) and in the very best moments the family you decide to make your own.
If you are very lucky, it will be a mixture of all three.
And for that, I am truly thankful.
(Un)Diagnosed and still okay 