Hubby's birthday is on Thursday and I am still trying to come up with the perfect idea. Birthday presents with meaning are the best to receive and the hardest to come up with to give. As I puzzle over his gift I came across this touching story about a gift for an 84 year old woman. It will definitely have you rethinking the quick stop to the mall for a gift.
Saturday, March 7, 2009 (AP) -- BUCKHEAD RIDGE, Fla. — What do you get an 84-year-old lady for her birthday? That's what Carol Brown was thinking a few weeks ago. Her mother, June Pearce, was turning 84. The idea of buying and giving more stuff just didn't appeal to Brown.
Pearce lives in a slow-paced retirement area near Lake Okeechobee in rural Florida. She's been married to the same man, Fred, for 64 years. Pearce is a wife and a mother. She's had a few strokes, which have robbed her mind of short-term memories. Lung cancer has claimed much of her strength. But one memory has stuck with her: riding on the back of a boy's motorcycle in the 1930s. "I wasn't scared at all," Pearce remembers. It was exciting, possibly one of the most thrilling moments of her life. Pearce remembered sliding off the bike and the pain of scraping her leg, but loving it just the same. She told this story so many times that Brown can recite it by heart. "It was during the depression," Brown said. "Not a lot of excitement happened then."
Brown thought of that story as she racked her brain, wondering what to do about the birthday. Then she had an idea. "Come Give Granny A Ride On Your Hog," she typed into an ad on Craigslist.
In the Internet posting, Brown asked if anyone would be willing to ride out and give Pearce a ride for her 84th birthday. She got one response, from a man named Ron Borowski. He said he'd ride his Harley-Davidson Low Rider — electric blue, with dark blue flames and a chrome kickstand shaped like a skeleton's foot — from his house in Palm Beach County to June and Fred Pearce's home, some 65 miles away.
"My mom passed away from cancer, so the ad touched me," said Borowski, 45. "I just figured it would be an adventure."
Brown told her mom the day before, and June Pearce spent the day calling everyone she knew to tell them about it. Brown's two grown daughters also showed up to celebrate. After all, it might be June Pearce's last birthday, since a doctor told her in September there was nothing more they could do for her cancer. On Friday, Pearce spent most of the afternoon walking up and down the driveway, waiting for Borowski. Just about 5 feet tall, Pearce's white hair matched her white cardigan, which was embroidered with butterflies. She wore pink glasses, which matched her pink frosted nails. Just before 4 p.m., Borowski thundered into the driveway, followed by a buddy riding a big, silver Honda.
"I'm your chauffeur today," Borowski said, grinning and taking off his helmet. He was wearing jeans, a T-shirt and a leather vest. Pearce's eyes widened. She made her way slowly toward the bike and touched the seat. Everyone made small talk for a while and Fred Pearce showed a sepia-tinged photo of the family's upstate New York home he and his wife built with their hands many decades ago. Then Borowski asked June Pearce if she wanted to take a ride. Pearce shook her head — how on earth would she ever get on the bike? "No way," she said firmly.
Pearce is a feisty woman, prone to swearing and stubbornness. Brown, Borowski and the granddaughters looked at each other. Had Borowski driven all this way for nothing? Maybe, thought Brown, her mother was just embarrassed that she wasn't able to straddle the bike on her own. Borowski, Brown and the granddaughters said they'd help her on. Pearce ran her hands on the black leather and, with a bit more coaxing, sat on the bike near the tank. She allowed her leg to be swung over the seat and then Borowski gently lifted her onto the back.
"I wish I was a lot younger," Pearce said, adjusting her helmet. Borowski climbed on. "Hold on tight," he said, and started the motor. The bike was so loud the grass near the driveway vibrated. Brown felt her heart thumping loudly out of excitement — and a bit of fear that Pearce would fall off.
Pearce's husband watched from a few feet away. "I've got all of my fingers crossed for her," he said. There were tears in his eyes; for the last three years, he's been caring for her through her chemotherapy and radiation. "I've been lucky to keep her alive," he said softly. "I hope this gives her another six months."
June Pearce wrapped her arms around Borowski's chest and he took off, slowly. They went around the block twice, past the retirees watering their lawns, past the pastel colored mobile homes — and Pearce wore a tiny smile as they rumbled into the driveway.
"What we're giving today is a memory," said Brown. "She's not going to get rid of it in a garage sale, break it or throw it away. Memories are the best gifts, I think."
Time is ticking closer to Thursday and I'm still pondering Steve's perfect gift. At least I have this Craiglisting "Come Give Stevie A Ride On Your Hog" idea in my back pocket.
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That is Molly in the middle with the silver glitter sun glasses on her head and the trench coat. Here the girls are enjoying the (sparkling grape juice) Champagne and Pizza reception as they pick out jewelry and shades. Can you see the Orange Carpet in the background? As opposed to the the Oscars' Red Carpet the Kids Choice Awards has an Orange Carpet. 
Each of our celebrities was asked to leave their hand prints next to their star on our Walk of Fame. These would be taken home later and hung on bedroom doors I am told.
With all those famous stars on hand security was tight. We used the movie industry giant Little Brother's Security Firm. If you weren't a celebrity you weren't getting through that door. Grandma was even sent through the garage. 
Everyone got a chance to walk the Orange Carpet through throngs of screaming fans and paparazzi.
Out of their glamorous paparazzi attire the girls donned fun clothes and shower caps for the beginning of the slime games. Icky green oatmeal played the part of the famous Nickelodeon Green Slime. One of the girls said, "It looks like throw-up." To which we answered, "What do you mean LOOKS LIKE?" Only a nine year old can truly appreciate good bathroom humor.
Let the Slime Games Begin! 
