What do you give someone who has everything???

I know that this is digressing a touch but worth a small article on. When Dad hit the ripe old age of 80 he decided to have a very large get together of all those that he felt close to. Which meant that the venue had to be large enough to take all those who actually felt honored enough to attend. So 100+ enjoyed a magnificent afternoon of wine, food and speeches (ugh) at Royal Queensland Golf Club.

A year or two passed with each year getting harder and harder to find that something special to give him. He always said "please don't get me anything" Mum would say "hankies or a scratchy will be fine" but he was amassing a handkerchief tower that Mallory couldn't have climbed over and I hate buying gifts of luck! I finally came up with the perfect gift..... Something that almost all men would appreciate.... not too costly but always memorable. 

Wine, women and song (well chocolate petite fours actually). Dad has always loved to be both in the presence of pretty women and loved to spoil them. Four years ago I called my great girlfriends Debbie, Elizabeth (Lob), Tracey and Janet and asked if they would mind joining me in surprising Dad for a few hours on the evening of his birthday to help celebrate yet another year on this planet.

"Yes" was the reply and so still a secret I arrived a little before 6:00 to say "Happy Birthday" to him. "Dad I have a present for you but it's not here yet "- the front gate buzzed, "oh here it is now", and with that a gaggle of gorgeous girls entered the house with Moet, tulips, fine chocolates from the boutique store in the city and enough energy to light up a small country township.

Tracey, Deb, Dad, Lob and Janet

Both Mum and Dad sat in surprised silence followed by Dad breaking into his big gummy grin that filled the room with an excited eagerness of one who really didn't have a clue about a surprise party." Glasses, we must get the champagne flutes" and "you really shouldn't have", and "what a wonderful present". Mum standing and getting a vase for the flowers that would sit in prime position on the kitchen ledge to catch the morning sun. Hugs all round and the chatter of women discussing what they are doing with their lives now, who is married to whom, how old are the children, what holiday's has Dad planned for that year, what car did he have now and when was he planning to "model up".

Deb, Dad, Lob, Janet and Moi 

It feels like yesterday that we stood together there in that kitchen like one big extended family sharing all the memories whilst Dad would be refilling flutes with the champagne which would merrily bubble in our glasses as if responding to the atmosphere in the home. A tradition was born.

Not always all of the girls could be in attendance but would always give their best wishes to be passed on. Deb, Lob, Janet and I had always managed and we would travel round Brisbane to maintain the birthday ritual. One year we had to steal our way into St Andrew's War Memorial Hospital boldly parading the champagne and cake. As all of us were ex-Registered Nurses we knew the ropes, if you could find that ONE cool nurse on the shift then you could get away with almost anything. Next thing we had make-shift wine glasses.plates, forks for the cake and one very happy father who was nursing fractured ribs and a sorely bruised back from falling down a huge number of steps exiting from the Brett's timber yards near the golf club.

31st of May this year was Dad's 87th birthday and we all embarked on the sojourn to Mum and Dad's place. This time we had savories to nibble on many thanks to Deb, Vintage Moet courtesy of Lob, of course a second bottle of French had to be opened on such a special occasion. Janet brought the bouquet of flowers that Mum again found prize place on the kitchen ledge and "little Tracey Gillinder" bought oodles of memories up with Dad regarding the time she worked in after sales at Mercedes Benz . 

We all knew that Dad was struggling by this stage, as the post radiation side effects had made his speech a little challenging. But the more he drank the easier it became to hear and understand him. Maybe our ears were all tuned into the alcohol or maybe the bubbles in that exquisite nectar picked up on the loving energy within the atmosphere and helped us de-code Bill Nutting's speech for his last birthday hoorah??

Traditions start for any number of reasons, many well planned and executed, others whimsical yet maintaining an impetus that keeps the event rolling like that perverbial stone that collects no moss. I am not quite sure what caused a group of girls 30+ years younger than the birthday boy to decide to share his precious day but I am very, very glad of it. 

A tradition which is sadly now at an end...