The Funny Thing We Did at My Mom’s 70th Birthday Dinner
Last night, our whole family went out to dinner to celebrate my mom’s 70th birthday. Everyone was there except my brother and his wife (who just had their first baby on my mom’s actual birthday, January 30th!), which felt very on brand for a family moment that was all about generations overlapping and life continuing to surprise us.
The plan, masterminded by my sister, was simple and perfect: matching shirts for her birthday. On the back, they read “Lila’s 70th Birthday.” On the front, there was a small tornado tucked into the corner. If you know my mom, you will get the reference immediately. She is, quite genuinely, a tornado in human form. Always moving, always doing, always doing life at full volume. She’s the kind of person who walks into a room and rearranges the air, and people notice right away.
So, to execute the plan, one by one all eight of us casually excused ourselves to the bathroom and returned wearing our matching shirts. Even the kids were in on it, which made it that much better. We sat back down, acted normal, ordered dinner, passed menus, made small talk, and waited.
Aaaaaaand nothing.
She didn’t notice anything! There were eight people all wearing the same shirts with the same wording and same little tornado on them, and absolutely nothing registered to her, which made me laugh. She was too busy catching up with everyone to notice what we were wearing. Finally, we cracked and told her to turn around and look. When she realized what was happening, she burst out laughing in that full body, slightly shocked laugh of hers that always feels like a gift. The kind that makes strangers nearby smile too.
Then she went to the bathroom to put on her own matching shirt, because of course, and while she was gone, my sister pulled out surprise number two.
She handed each of us a sign to hang around our necks, each one printed with a famous saying my mom is known for. The things she says without thinking, and the phrases that have become part of our family’s shared language. “I’ve been going nonstop.” And my personal favorite, delivered with perfect timing in a wide variety of situations, “Holy shit!” That was the sign I wore.
We put them on and waited.
She came back to the table, sat down, picked up her menu, and once again did not notice a single thing. We gave her a minute, maybe two, just to see how far it could go. And then one by one, we lifted our signs and read them out loud, collapsing into laughter as we went around the table.
When it finally clicked, she laughed so hard she had to put her hand on her chest. I love seeing her so happy!
It struck me in that moment how rare it is to reach an age where people are not just celebrating you, but celebrating the phrases you say without realizing, the habits you’ve passed down, the energy you bring into a room just by being yourself, which, if you know my mom, you know she has always been so unapologetically herself. Seventy years of showing up, loving loudly, and leaving a mark big enough that it can be printed on cardstock and worn around a table.
That’s my mom. She taught me how to love, how to be a good parent, and how to be a good friend.
She is brilliant and funny and deeply loving. She is the person who will tell you exactly what she thinks and you’ll thank her for her honesty. She is the one who is and has always been the engine of our family. A force of nature in the truest sense!
After dinner, we walked to get donuts, because that felt like the only appropriate ending. Sugar and laughter and a cool night air that made everything feel a little cinematic. Then we drove home, full in every way that matters.
It was a beautiful night celebrating a beautiful woman. One who has shaped all of us more than she probably realizes. If seventy looks like this, loud laughter, matching shirts, inside jokes, and donuts after dinner, then I think we’re doing something right.
Happy 70th birthday, Lila Anne. We love you so much.