80

It was a party for the ages.

We're accepting this, right, Mom? We're using the digits?

80.

This is what 80 looks like.

Surrounded by friends . . .

 My godmothah!

. . . and all your sons-in-law . . .

. . . and all your grandchildren . . .

. . . and all your daughters . . .

. . . and some of your siblings.

It was a party for the ages, Mom.

Wait, I already said that.

It was a beautiful day . . .

. . . and a beautiful setting . . .

. . . and a beautiful, stunning party.

. . . and a beautiful tribute to everybody's favorite Mom and Grammy and sister and friend.

 The food. Oh, the food. I wish I had that plate right this moment.

The cake!

(I *love* this one of Jane.)

That's a good cake.

Friends for life, right there.

It was hilarious and wonderful and stunning and utterly perfect.

That's what Mom told me late last night when I stopped in her room. "It was perfect."

Perfect is good. We aim for perfect.

How can you go wrong with this crew?

And this one. How'd we get so lucky with these eight? Every one is more awesome than the other.

The after-party-party rocked too, natch.

Julie and her godmothah.

We terrorized that joint . . .

. . . and looked good doing it.

Just be thankful I didn't include the minute-and-a-half video of us singing The Boxer.

Seriously. Be thankful.

There was music and laughter and food and drink and friends and family and many many people telling many many stories about the incredible Ellen Flatley Corey, and we couldn't be more delighted and happy and pleased and excited that we were able to be together to celebrate this momentous day.

Happy Birthday Mom! We love you Big.