4. In praise of the family party

February was mum’s 90^th birthday and we travelled to three states to celebrate. It started with a flight to the Gold Coast and a reunion with her best friend Wendy, who she has known since they went to Macrobertson girls high school together in Melbourne in the 1940s and who also turned 90 in February. Then it moved to Sydney, with lunch on Wednesday, her birthday, followed by a party with her friends, her children and grandchildren, and the youngest of her four great grandchildren, on the following Saturday. We drove to Albury on the Monday to see the other three great grandchildren, and their parents, then to Melbourne where we had a final celebration with several of mum’s cousins. When you’ve had as big a life as mum has, you deserve a lot of celebrations!

Mum comes from a family that loves to party – my mother was an only child but her mother was one of eight and they used any excuse, no matter how feeble, to have a family party. Milestone birthdays, engagements, weddings, housewarmings, wakes…the whole family, or at least whoever was available, could be found at one of the sister’s houses. Everyone would bring plenty of food and drink to share and the party spirit would be lively, always including plenty of singing and dancing beside the piano and a spirited rendition of “Hallelujah chorus” around the pianola. When my father and mother met, aged 16, my father was embraced into the family spirit and enthusiastically greeted by the many younger cousins looking for someone to wrestle. And when my mother turned 21 my father, by then her fiancé, organised a party at his own parents’ house and invited all my mother’s family – I can only imagine how his own more reticent family responded to the noisy, happy group! My sister and I also loved those family parties – there were older cousins to play with, uncles who danced the “Hokey Pokey” with us, aunts who teased us and made us laugh.

In 1973, when we left the extended family behind and moved to Sydney, my mother missed everybody keenly. While our family, or at the very least my parents, made every effort to return to Melbourne for important events and parties, there were many more impromptu events that they had to forego. My parents had been very generous with celebrating their children’s milestones and gave my sister and I several birthday parties – sometimes some of her family would make the trip to Sydney, for 18^th and 21^st birthdays and weddings, but it was not the same as the fun of a family get together in Melbourne.

As my parents developed their own social circle in Sydney, through Rotary and Golf in particular, they started having smaller impromptu parties at each others’ house. Over time, these events took on a life of their own, with funny costumes and props added, poems read and themed food served. The hilarity levels rose with each successive celebration of anything from a promotion at work, a new car, the house mortgage paid off or a grandchild born. My sister and I grew up and we got involved in decorations, costume making, food preparation and serving. Bemused boyfriends could also be included – I’m not sure what they made of the whole shenanigans.

When dad turned 60, mum organised a big party to celebrate. My father had never had a birthday party, so mum went all out with caterers and bar staff. It was a fun night with all of their friends as well as their children and grandchildren. In return, when mum turned 60, dad decided that a surprise party was a great idea – my sister and I were roped in to organise while they went to see “Phantom of the Opera”, but the jig was up when he took her to the market on the way home to give us more time to be ready – my father hated going to markets, so mum got very suspicious! She arrived home, dressed very casually in shorts and shirt, to a house full of people all dressed up to party. It took her a while to relax and enjoy herself, but by the end of the day she’d had a great time and dad was forgiven.

I moved back to Melbourne in 1997 and reconnected with the extended family. Most of the original members, including my grandmother, had passed away by then, and family parties were a much more muted affair. They were usually held at the houses of the next generation as only one of the elderly sisters was still alive. By then, the pianola had long been broken, and the aunt who had once filled the house with music was no longer alive, leaving a quiet space where once there had been singing and dancing, but there was still lots of fun and familiarity within the remaining group.

Whenever mum and dad came to visit me in Melbourne, I would try to organise a time for the family to get together. We also had small family gatherings at our house for mum’s 70^th and again for her 80^th birthday. She loves reconnecting with her cousins and hearing all the family stories. Phone calls, letters and emails provide some forms of communication but it is never as good as a proper catch up, and only seeing each other at funerals is definitely not the same.

As time went on, mum and dad’s visits became less frequent, and in 2019, after their last visit to Melbourne, the world changed with Covid. Dad got more unwell and entered a nursing home, passing away in 2023. The family in Melbourne contacted mum frequently with their condolences and watched dad’s funeral via Zoom. For a while I think mum thought she may never see any of them again. But the memories of those joyful celebrations, the music, laughter, and stories, continued to echo in all of our hearts and, as time passed and her next milestone birthday loomed, she decided she wanted “one last trip” south. Mum’s 90th was a reminder of how precious these moments are, and how we carry the spirit of those past celebrations with us.