Bittersweet birthday
Written by Deb Kalmbach
“Happy birthday dear Robert, happy birthday to me.” Dad’s voice boomed through the Mexican restaurant, singing louder than the rest of the family at his 80th celebration. His candles flickered on the chocolate cake we had brought from home. Dad beamed with delight as he blew out every candle.
My four brothers had travelled from all corners of the country to celebrate Dad’s birthday. It was the first time we’d been together since our parents’ 50th wedding anniversary eight years earlier.
Back then, siblings, spouses and children gathered around a banquet table and listened as Dad raised his glass to toast our mother saying, “I have always loved your mom. I thank God for her and her faithfulness and love through all these years.” The tender moment is etched in my heart.
And here we all were again. How did Dad get to be 80? I wondered. Mom’s still with us, but so much has changed. Dad was showing serious signs of Pick’s disease, a form of dementia that was slowly stealing his invincible, self-assured personality. Though we didn’t hear Dad’s usual eloquent words, his winsome smile lit up the room brighter than his candles.
We arranged with the restaurant to serve our cake after dinner. Everyone agreed, especially Dad, that we each needed a scoop of vanilla ice cream with our dessert.
“No problema,” the waiter said. Moments later, he returned and leaned toward my husband, Randy, with a question.
When the waiter left, Randy admitted to me, “I’m not sure what I just agreed to.”
We soon found out. Several waiters came to our table carrying huge trays of fried ice cream, swimming in hot fudge sauce and heaped with whipped cream – enough to feed a small army.
My mother was shocked, and Dad looked like a kid in a candy shop. We laughed until tears rolled down our cheeks. The laughter bonded us as family. The tears gave us permission to grieve the inevitable – that Dad might not be with us for another birthday. In our hearts we knew it, but we laughed through the tears and the joy of celebrating Dad.
Deb Kalmbach and her family live in Winthrop, Washington.
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