You Don’t Turn 100 Every Day

DEAR READER: IF YOU HAVE PHOTOS OF THIS EVENT TO SHARE, PLEASE EMAIL THEM TO ME AT WCREAMER151@GMAIL.COM AND I WILL ADD THEM. THANKS!

This post may take some time to load fully. It includes two video clips, a slide show and quite a few large photos.

The end of January is not a great time for travel across the American continent. This year, there was snow in the east and south while atmospheric rivers drenched the west barely two weeks after southern California’s catastrophic fires. It’s a good time of year to sit tight watching TV or going to the gym.

Despite the less than optimal traveling conditions, my family gathered in Syracuse, NY, the heart of the snow belt, to celebrate a rare milestone. My mother, Rovilla Jeanne Mills Creamer, was born on Feb. 3, 1925, and turned 100 years old on February 3 of this year. We’ve always known that there’d be a party if mom made it to 100, and my brother Tim and his wife Margie planned the party over the past year, reminding us all to make travel plans, selecting a Saturday for the party to make it possible for all those still working to get there and home again in time for Monday morning in the office, and generally thinking of everything.

Jeanne at 100, looking pretty great

About ten days before the event, I made a color coded chart of comings and goings of one portion of the group (my siblings and children!) that showed the arrivals and departures of grandchildren and their families across the week or so. We didn’t want anyone to miss the party.

Naturally, the weather was wintry. There was rain, then snow, then everything froze solid. The temperature fell to single digits (F°). When it thawed we shoveled, when it froze we sprinkled ice melt.

I arrived on Wed. Jan. 29, at 11 pm and picked up my rental minivan. It was like driving a boat. The Airbnb I shared with my sister Paula and her partner Wayne was only four miles from the Syracuse airport, and I got to the house before midnight. Paula and Wayne had flown to Boston and driven to Syracuse, arriving before I did.

The next day, we visited mom to say hello, and started on our quest for party decorations. That evening, we hosted Paula’s son Brian and his family for dinner at the Airbnb. The children, Eliza and Sam, let off some steam exploring the new place and playing with the games available. After dinner, we taught Eliza to play Yahtzee while her mom Emily, currently in grad school, attended an evening class via zoom in our “office”.

Friday began with a trip to the airport to collect Sheila, my youngest sister, then on to the Loretto Rehabilitation and Health Center to have lunch with mom. Two weeks before the party, mom slipped and fell, breaking her arm bone near her elbow. It was in a soft wrap until this day’s appointment with the orthopedist. Paula and Tim spent the afternoon getting mom dressed and to her appointment, finding out how she’s doing and getting her home again. Mom came home with her arm in a hard cast and promptly complained that her arm inside the cast itched.

Everyone in town by Thursday night met at the Heritage Hill Brewery for socializing and dinner. (Except for mom, she was exhausted by her outing to the doctor.) It was great to see my sisters and brother, nieces and nephews, cousins, friends and relations. After dinner, we headed home to await the arrival of my youngest, Lillian, and her husband Neil, driving in from Champaign, IL. Instead, we got a call that they slipped off the road in heavy fog in Pennsylvania when changing drivers and had to get towed back onto the highway. We were not sure how long they’d be stranded, and I was very concerned because it had begun to snow heavily in Syracuse. Fortunately, they were back on the road after about 90 minutes. Thank you, tow truck!

Friday night, I was at the airport at 10:30 pm with my sister Sheila as navigator, to collect my oldest daughter, Amanda, and her daughter Aurora. I had to pick up a car seat, which went smoothly until I tried to attach it to the car. It was brand new, and I’d even gotten the instruction book from the desk, as neither of the men manning the desk knew how it worked. I managed to connect it in a way that would keep Aurora safe until we got home. Their flight arrived a bit early and we zoomed home to the Airbnb. That’s when we discovered that we loaded the backpacks and stroller and drove away from Amanda’s suitcase sitting on the sidewalk. Two frantic phone calls later, the suitcase was in the hands of airport personnel and we were assured we could collect it in the morning. We fell into bed, grateful for pillows and quilts. As mom of a toddler, Amanda travels with changes of clothing, and had all she needed until the next day.

Saturday, the big day, dawned cold and snowy. We dressed and loaded our decorations. Paula went to pick up Amanda’s bag, a nephew picked up the cake and corsage for Jeanne, and I picked up the three bunches of helium balloons, because I had the biggest vehicle. We met at the party venue, the dining room at the Nottingham, where mom lives when her arm is not broken.

Party time was 11 am, so we positioned balloons, strung streamers, arranged tables of photos, a large birthday photo that would be signed by all present and eventually framed.

Mom arrived at the Nottingham around 10 am so that she could dress in her own apartment, aided by daughter Catherine and granddaughter Julia. The attention meant that she looked her best, and was relaxed. She didn’t have to hunt for anything or struggle to get her arm in a sleeve.

Mom made her entrance down an aisle of family members holding images of her face. Once settled in a chair in the middle of the room, she began greeting guests. This went on for the entire three hours of the party. She took a break and ate when everyone else did, but stayed alert and enthusiastic the entire time. We were impressed by her stamina.

Photographs were scheduled for 1 pm, giving my middle daughter Lyra a chance to arrive from the airport. Her flight landed at 11:10 am on Saturday, giving her just about 24 hours in Syracuse before her return to LA. My favorite photo was the first taken, Jeanne’s six great-grandchildren with their great grandma. We forgot that small children are a law unto themselves, and the youngest three, Otto (1), Aurora (2), and Sam (3), were tiring by about 12:30, so the photo had to be moved up. In the end, mothers had to be added to the photo holding clinging toddlers. It’s still my favorite photo of the day.

There was a mass photo of everyone in attendance and a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday.

Next up was cutting the cake. Mom may have had a little bit of help with the candles, but they were extinguished to more cheers.

My brother Tim, a natural emcee, led off the anecdotes, and the rest of us tried to keep up.

Paula played a rendition of Happy Birthday to Jeanne sung by the entirety of the Oregon Repertory Singers (she is a member).

I told the story of mom and I getting stuck on the train in a snowstorm on our way home from seeing the Metropolitan Opera.

Clockwise from Upper Left: Catherine Creamer, Sheila Creamer, Winifred Creamer, Amanda Haas, Jeanne’s first friend at the Nottingham, Meaghan Creamer, Dr. Erika Hegland, Anne Dwyer and Mike Messmer

My sisters told their stories and Tim told even more stories, and so did everyone who had a story to tell.

THIS SLIDESHOW HAS MORE IMAGES:

People in slide show: Jeanne Creamer,

Terry Creamer and Jeanne Creamer; Lyra Haas and Jeanne Creamer; Ian Bragdon, Jeanne (resting), and Terry Creamer

So many other nice moments. The party began to wind down, photos were taken with people’s phones, contacts exchanged, and we were all invited to meet later at the Otisco Lake Community Center for family style dinner. Mom went home to rest. It was a lovely celebration, but the weekend was not over yet. The centenarian might have gone home to rest, but there were lots and lots of conversations still to be had.