After Mum revealed something that left us feeling sad, we hatched a cheeky plan… By Debbie James, 66
As everyone sipped bubbly and my daughter Molly danced around in a Bride to Be sash, my mum looked on misty-eyed.
‘I’d have loved something like this before I got married – all the girls together, seeing me off into married life. It’s lovely,’ she said.
‘Why couldn’t you have a hen do, Nan?’ Molly asked.
Mum explained that it wasn’t really a thing when she and my dad, Geoff, got married in 1955.
Growing up, they’d often told me and my brother and sisters about their romance.
They’d met through mutual friends when Dad was in the Navy and Mum was training to be a teacher.
They recited, like a fairy tale, how they’d walked shyly along the promenade, before Dad had plucked up the courage to ask Mum to a party on board his ship.
‘The rest of the night was magical,’ Mum said.
‘I remember going home and telling my dad, “I’ve met the girl I’m going to marry”,’ Dad continued.
They’d got engaged on Mum’s 21st birthday, and married the following year.
Mum was so full of fun, and Molly and I felt sad she’d missed out on a hen do.
So, with her and Dad’s platinum wedding anniversary approaching, we hatched a plan.
Months later, I was out for dinner with my parents, when I told Mum that I was planning a party for my sister, and convinced her to come and check out a venue with me.
It was the night before her and Dad’s 70th wedding anniversary, when Mum and I stepped inside a music venue called The Riff Corner, near our home in Clevedon, Bristol.
I had to stifle a laugh as I walked behind Mum.
'Look at the balloons'
‘I think the room is just upstairs,’ I said.
‘Oh, I’m 92, Debbie, I’m not going up there!’ Mum replied, looking at the steep flight of stairs.
‘I really want you to see it, Mum,’ I said. ‘It’ll only take a second.’
Mum, who was also named Molly, sighed but started to make her way up the stairs. As she reached the top, there was a gasp, followed by a burst of girlie laughter.
‘Happy hen do, Molly!’ everyone cheered.
‘Oh my goodness!’ Mum said, turning to me with a look of complete surprise on her face.
‘You little fibber!’ she said.
In the room, Mum embraced the large group of family and friends who’d gathered, as arranged, for her long overdue hen do.
Everyone wore heart-shaped glasses and naval themed sashes that read, Great Catch, Drinking Captain or Sexy Skipper.
My sisters and I slipped
a Bride to Be sash on Mum and fixed a white veil to
her hair.
She laughed.
‘How long have you been planning this?’ she asked.
Seeing her beaming smile brought tears of happiness
to my eyes.
‘Look at the balloons!’ she said, pointing to the hanging wall decoration that spelled out Hen Party.
We had a table full with all her favourite foods, and a playlist littered
with her favourite songs, including Lizbeth Webb’s This Is My Lovely Day – the first dance song at her wedding.
Soon the evening got a bit more raucous.
‘Right, it’s time for
penis hoopla,’ one of the younger women called out.
Mum howled with laughter as an inflatable willy was strapped to someone’s head and the other women began tossing small hoops at it.
‘Come on, Nan,’ Molly said. ‘Your turn.’
As Molly approached with the inflatable, Mum protested.
‘No, no, love, I can’t do that… I’m 92!’ she said.
But moments later, she conceded.
As everyone stood in front of her, hoops in hand, Mum squealed with laughter.
‘Careful!’ she said, cackling. ‘That almost hit my eye.’
As the night progressed, talk turned to Mum and Dad’s long-lasting marriage.
‘What’s your secret?’ I asked.
‘The secret is compromise,’ Mum said. ‘Life never runs smoothly, but we’ve weathered the storms and stuck together.’
I smiled.
‘And your dad can make me laugh, so he gets away with murder!’ Mum said.
Not many daughters get to celebrate their mum’s hen do.
But it was one of the happiest days, and we’ll remember it for a long time to come.
It just goes to show, that even at 92, you’re never too old for a hen do!