Thelma stood at the edge of a large rectangular table. She peered across from her at the v-shaped arrangement of cups. Intensity poured from her eyes as they moved slightly from side to side. With each blink her gray eyes filled with excess water. Out of the corner of her peripheral Thelma noticed her five great grandchildren running around the house. They all carried one rainbow colored balloon tied around each of their tiny wrists. Everyday spent with her family was a blessing. Normally at any other birthday party Thelma could be found running after them screaming ‘Tag, you’re it!’ This year was different. She made a bet exactly one year ago today on her ninety-second birthday, and she intended on keeping it.
Thelma never imagined living past the age of eighty, let alone ninety-two. Her eighties seemed to be as distant as her adolescence. The many inventions that she lived to experience left her nostalgic. She took nothing for granted and lived life to the fullest. Last year on her birthday the youngest grandchild, Stephen, brought to her attention the game of Beer Pong, saying, “It’s a young people’s drinking game. You wouldn’t get it.” Stephen didn’t mean anything negative by his comment. He respected his grandmother very much. Thelma made him a bet that in one year’s time she would be able to make the first shot of the game, hands down.
There stood Thelma, staring at Stephen from across the table on her ninety-third birthday contemplating which red plastic cup to choose as her hole in one. Her focus was broken from laughter exploding behind her where the family sat finishing up the birthday feast. Thelma snapped her head around.
“Keep it down. I’m trying to concentrate.” Specs of spit sprayed out of her mouth. “God dammit,” she said. She screamed out and grabbed her neck in pain. “Now see what you made me do? I threw out my neck again.” Thelma had always been a feisty, independent woman. Her attitude didn’t change with age. Silence seized the voices of those sitting at the dining room table. Thelma’s son, Gerald, rose from his chair putting his finger over his mouth and gestured in a sarcastic manner for everyone to be quiet. The family let out a small giggle.
“Mom, maybe it’s time to take a break,” Gerald said.
“Nonsense, I haven’t even started yet,” Thelma said, “It’s just a spasm. It’ll pass.” Gerald’s sister, Patricia, along with others, helped with clearing empty food plates from the table. Everyone else sat with their legs spread open and their pants unzipped relieving themselves and giving them space to breathe.
“We should really go and support Mom. This is a big decision for her to be making alone,” Patricia said to Gerald. The two shared another laugh. The family collectively gathered in the living room behind Thelma and chanted in support.
“Sink it! Sink it! Sink it!”
Thelma reached for her hearing aid to turn it off and drown out the cheering. She was encapsulated in silence. She took a deep breath. The smell of beer and leftovers put a smile on her face. She had made her decision. She arched her right hand, flicked her wrist, and released. The ball flew through the air and looked to travel in slow motion, Thelma thought. Just as she made the bet confidently, she sank the ball as expected and won her bragging rights. She reached back towards her ear to turn her world back up.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” everyone sang out. Thelma held her hands up in victory.
“Chill out. I told you I had that.” Thelma said. “Now someone bring me my glass of wine so I can show this young man how to play a game of Beer Pong.”
Thelma never imagined living past the age of eighty, let alone ninety-two. Her eighties seemed to be as distant as her adolescence. The many inventions that she lived to experience left her nostalgic. She took nothing for granted and lived life to the fullest. Last year on her birthday the youngest grandchild, Stephen, brought to her attention the game of Beer Pong, saying, “It’s a young people’s drinking game. You wouldn’t get it.” Stephen didn’t mean anything negative by his comment. He respected his grandmother very much. Thelma made him a bet that in one year’s time she would be able to make the first shot of the game, hands down.
There stood Thelma, staring at Stephen from across the table on her ninety-third birthday contemplating which red plastic cup to choose as her hole in one. Her focus was broken from laughter exploding behind her where the family sat finishing up the birthday feast. Thelma snapped her head around.
“Keep it down. I’m trying to concentrate.” Specs of spit sprayed out of her mouth. “God dammit,” she said. She screamed out and grabbed her neck in pain. “Now see what you made me do? I threw out my neck again.” Thelma had always been a feisty, independent woman. Her attitude didn’t change with age. Silence seized the voices of those sitting at the dining room table. Thelma’s son, Gerald, rose from his chair putting his finger over his mouth and gestured in a sarcastic manner for everyone to be quiet. The family let out a small giggle.
“Mom, maybe it’s time to take a break,” Gerald said.
“Nonsense, I haven’t even started yet,” Thelma said, “It’s just a spasm. It’ll pass.” Gerald’s sister, Patricia, along with others, helped with clearing empty food plates from the table. Everyone else sat with their legs spread open and their pants unzipped relieving themselves and giving them space to breathe.
“We should really go and support Mom. This is a big decision for her to be making alone,” Patricia said to Gerald. The two shared another laugh. The family collectively gathered in the living room behind Thelma and chanted in support.
“Sink it! Sink it! Sink it!”
Thelma reached for her hearing aid to turn it off and drown out the cheering. She was encapsulated in silence. She took a deep breath. The smell of beer and leftovers put a smile on her face. She had made her decision. She arched her right hand, flicked her wrist, and released. The ball flew through the air and looked to travel in slow motion, Thelma thought. Just as she made the bet confidently, she sank the ball as expected and won her bragging rights. She reached back towards her ear to turn her world back up.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” everyone sang out. Thelma held her hands up in victory.
“Chill out. I told you I had that.” Thelma said. “Now someone bring me my glass of wine so I can show this young man how to play a game of Beer Pong.”
