It's my Birthday

Yesterday, at the hair salon, the stylist asked the matriarch what she was doing for her birthday.

Nothing....no, I think they're taking me to The Keg.

The stylist looked at me and shook her head. I know it is the matriarch's 100th birthday; I know I should be planning a reception at a local restaurant or a hall; I know all these things. Of course, when I discuss the situation with the matriarch she doesn't want anything. She doesn't want a reception. She doesn't want a party. My husband is making her go to The Keg. With the children, my parents, her nieces and their husbands, her sister-in-law and her husband--if, after last visit, they show up.

At dinner last night, I again asked the matriarch, in front of my husband and children, if she would like to have a reception at the local Lions' Hall; it's an old one room school house, not very big but would be a nice place for a reception. We could serve sandwiches and tea, the children could make a cake.

I told you I want nothing.

My oldest daughter looks and me and asks why I keep going on about grandma's birthday? The woman has told us more than once she wants nothing.

Later, my husband talks to me after dinner, when the children aren't around and the matriarch is upstairs.

You do realize all of her friends are dead? No one she knows is around anymore.

I say, even if it is just family, it would be a nice thing to do.

My mother wants to go The Keg with all of us, that's enough. That's what she wants.

Then, why does she keep telling everyone I am doing nothing for her birthday?