The Surprised 25th Anniversary
I love parties thrown in my honour, even if they’re surprise parties (as long as someone discreetly steers me to the appropriate wardrobe choice). In particular, I look forward to milestone birthday and anniversary parties.
It was a warm sunny June in Northern Ontario. Not only was our daughter graduating from high school, but the week before her big day, my husband and I were celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. On the evening of our anniversary, we went out for supper, alone, at our favourite restaurant. We were a bit suspicious as it was quite unlike our family and friends to let this milestone pass with no fanfare. Our daughter noticed our confusion and assured us we would do something the following week once our son arrived home from London, Ontario, for her graduation. We weren't sure what this meant and something about her demeanour told us not to make additional inquiries.
Three days before her graduation, my husband flew to a convention in Calgary. He would fly home, connecting via Toronto, the afternoon before the grad. Our worried daughter made him promise he would not miss it. He assured her he would be back in plenty of time, which seemed an easy promise to honour until the day he was to leave Calgary. Toronto started experiencing severe thunderstorms that morning, with forecasts for unsettled weather throughout the day.
As a frequent flyer I knew this type of weather wreaked havoc with flight schedules and resulted in more broken promises than my teenager vowing to clean her room. As the day wore on, I wore out the computer keyboard checking my husband’s flight status. I became more and more doubtful that he would make it to Toronto that day, let alone get on one of the very few connecting flights to Northern Ontario. Even if he made it into Toronto and stayed overnight, the chances of him getting home in time for the morning grad ceremony were slim. My daughter became more anxious by the minute and my son, who had flown home without event the day before, was pacing, a habit uncustomary for my normally undisturbed first born.
That evening, my son would go to my aunt and uncle's house for a visit. My daughter, the chair of her grad committee, left the house before dinner with files in hand. She was handing over the baton to her successor to ensure a smooth transition for the following year's graduation activities. I thought she might be a bit overdressed, but she made a casual comment that the girls were celebrating a night out as well.
As the time for my son to leave approached, my aunt called and invited me to go over as well. My first instinct was to decline. I was up to my elbows stripping meat off a ham bone, to prepare for the cold buffet I would serve up at my house for the big grad party the following day. I also didn't want to leave the house until I had an update from my husband (cell phones were not so common back then). I received the long-awaited phone call from my husband. He assured me he had landed in Toronto and was renting a car to drive the eight hours home through the night. The only option at this point to keep his promise to our daughter. After his assurances and much cajoling from my son, I removed my food-stained apron, changed into something I hoped didn't smell like ham, and went with my son.
I had a strange feeling about this whole thing. My suspicions were confirmed when we arrived at my aunt and uncle's front door and a houseful of guests yelled, "Surprise!!!!"
The first thing that crossed my mind was the irrational thought that perhaps my husband was there, and this was part of the whole surprise. My first words were, “Is Rob here?” My rational side reminded me how ludicrous this was because why would he surprise me at our 25th anniversary party? I didn’t know if there was precedent for a groom-less celebration. But my family, who subscribed to the “no party poopers allowed" rule, handed me a glass of wine and we celebrated just the same. I posed for pictures with my stand-in groom, a mantel-sized statue of Michelangelo’s David, watched the beautiful slideshow the kids put together and listened to my son recite a funny and heartfelt poem he and my daughter had written. I held back tears and smiled through it all, knowing that my husband would have been so touched, and dreaded when I had to tell him what he missed.
Someone had the brilliant idea that we should save the cake and decorations for the following day. The guest list was almost the same anyway, and we could combine the grad party and 25th anniversary all into one celebration. My husband arrived home at 4 a.m., and we said nothing to him until the grad party was in full swing that afternoon. My cousin lured him outside to show off his new vehicle while we quickly switched decorations, brought the cake out of hiding, and set up the slideshow. I signalled to my cousin to end the ruse, he ushered my husband back in and we all yelled, “Surprise!!!”
It was very confusing for my bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived husband, who continued to have many questions even after being briefed about the first surprise party, eating cake, and toasting many more years of wedded bliss.
For all my love of celebrations, I guess I ended up with two, or perhaps more like one and a half. We refer to the first one (groom-less) as my 25th-Anniversary party and the second one as ours.
Originally published in The Bad Day Book: Volume 1, September 2023.
