The Birthday, Mr. Dad’s Big Day
The anticipated 93rd birthday is here. Dad’s enjoying phone calls from friends and messages from family but so far I’m afraid the real day is not living up to his expectations or he could just be tired. It’s hard to tell.
He got to sleep late this morning, a welcome rest as he was looking a bit ragged after the last two days of partying. It’s early afternoon, though, and nothing “exciting” has happened. They always seem a little “off” when their regular caregiver isn’t here. It throws off their schedule.
I’ve planned his birthday dinner and the cake turned out well–at least when I put it in the refrigerator last night it was looking good. I’m afraid to check this morning. It was so tall none of my cake covers fit. I had to jury-rig a cover, then rearrange everything in the garage refrigerator so it would fit.
My dad is a people person. While a big party would be my nightmare, there wouldn’t be a party big enough for him. When it’s just the usual four of us for dinner, I think he’ll be disappointed. Isn’t it weird that I’m still trying to please my parents after 65 years—that I don’t want to disappoint them and if I do, I feel like I’ve failed somehow?
The day is finally over. Some of their church friends came for cake and Happy Birthday singing. He got to wear his party hat and flashing button. I’m glad the friends came. It made it more like a party. The dinner turned out well, except I forgot the requested corn on the cob. It was in the refrigerator, I just forgot to cook it.
I think his favorite part of the day was an evening call from our son and daughter-in-law. He got a little weepy. I told him our other son offered to make the six-hour drive here and back on Friday with the great-grandchildren just to wish him a Happy Birthday. They had a weekend already crammed with commitments and church responsibilities on Sunday. His said they made the right decision to stay home. Whew, I feel off the hook. As much as Dad loves his family, it is a love tempered with reason and concern for their well-being.
Now I’m off to bed. No caregiver tomorrow so I’m on duty until Monday morning. But, oh, I just realized their 70th wedding anniversary is coming up. I think I’ll do a Scarlett O’Hara, “I can’t think about this now. I’ll go crazy if I do…Tomorrow is another day.”