CHASING DOWN THE MUSE:Marking a special birthday for mom

As she peeked her head around the corner at my front door, I held my breath, anxious to see the look on her face, to see if the secret had held.

As she realized what was happening, tears filled the corner of my mother’s eyes as simultaneously she took in the crowd of friends and family that jammed the entry, and listened to their harmonious, “Surprise!”

It was my mother, Kay Wright’s, 80th birthday.

For weeks we had held the secrecy, a web of handed off communications between my step-dad, Lewie Wright and his son, Bobby. There was no way I could call the house and ask to speak to Lewie without raising suspicion, so I’d call Bobby to pass messages, and Lewie would call me back when mom had left the house.

Covert meetings about who, what, when, and where, and the deal was sealed. I’d transform my house into an intimate bistro with 48 close friends and family members.

A phone call to my sister in Idaho confirmed that she’d fly with her husband, James, for the affair. And blessedly, mom and Lewie had their annual week at a timeshare in Rancho Bernardo to keep them out of town.

I found cute pink invitations downtown at Colony Company. “Shhh” read the copy and inside, I enclosed the details and a map. Everyone was to arrive no later than 5:15 p.m. I’d arranged for valet parking to deal with the difficulty of finding spaces on Wendt Terrace “” and to hide the cars.

The ruse to get mom to the house? Easy. We share a birthday and my husband, Steve’s, is just two days later. Instead of a crowded Memorial Day restaurant, I’d suggested a cozy family dinner with splurges on great wine and food. We agreed on 5:30 p.m.

Of all the invitees, only three were unable to attend. The RSVPs were as much fun as sending the invitation. Chris Winton said she felt like a little kid at the thought of the surprise, as did Mary Ann Barker. Shirley Pobe said she wouldn’t miss it for the world. The McLeishes and McCullums both called to RSVP for each other.

Dorothy Gray was part of my foil. She and her husband, Don Turner, agreed to have dinner with mom the night of her actual birthday, the day before the party. Mom was feeling kind of over-looked on her special day. They were all “hush hush mum’s the word.”

Mom’s lifelong friend and fellow-former Lagunan, Joyce Johns, made the drive from Anza. She and mom had been flag girls together as seniors at Long Beach Polytechnic High.

Stepdaughter Janie Yaugher and her husband Bob drove down from Oakhurst, along with great-granddaughter Ashley. Grandson Jeff Yaugher brought his daughter, great-granddaughter, Jessica. Stepson Bobby and his wife Pam brought grandsons, Taylor and Parker. Stepson Lewis and his wife, June, drove in from Norco with granddaughter Francis, and great-grandchildren Nadia and David.

Former next-door neighbors, before their Bluebird homes slide from under them, Donna and Hugh, were part of the beaming gathering. The Cathcarts, the Griffiths, and Campbells completed the guest list, along with mom’s special friend and cardiac rehab nurse at South Coast Medical Center, Pat Creighton.

Claudia, James, Steve, and I worked feverishly to transform the house into an intimate setting. Pink table cloths, glittery confetti and 50 brightly colored helium balloons set the stage. Claudia shopped for flowers with the help of her friend Penny, and when she had worked her magic, each table radiated in with pink and orange roses. She also crafted a delicate rose corsage for my mother to wear.

My son, her grandson, Cooper, volunteered to be the official photographer. Sun-Dried Tomato provided excellent catering, with mini-lamb chop appetizers and a savory chicken dish stuffed with spinach and cheese. Nick Siracusa, my absolute favorite bartender from Sorrento Grille, worked his magic with martinis and scotch.

The cake? Homemade sheets of soft lemon yellow with butter cream frosting and “Happy Birthday” in contrasting pink. Eighty candles made the cake appear ablaze and set off the smoke detector as I walked it down the hall.

Oblivious to the high pitched alarm, family and friends raised their voices in the traditional birthday song for this woman who owns my heart. With a hearty blow (well, maybe two or three) and multiple wishes, she blew all the candles out.

After the crowd departed “” children carrying armloads of balloons and smiling women with flowers from the tables “” we plopped on the couch to watch the gift I had created for mom. “The Life of Kay,” a video that chronicles 150 years of her family and life in 33 minutes, elicited both laughter and tears.

Happy Birthday, Mom. You are the best.