Friday, November 23, 2007

when birthdays no longer matter

The day after Thanksgiving. The day we eat turkey sandwiches and Grandpa’s cranberries. The day we pick at the leftover pie. The day we cheer on our favorite football team (okay..well at least some of us). It’s just another day in the series of holidays, except for one minor tradition: the celebration of life. More specifically, my life. Yes, my birthday is coming up really soon, but it falls on a day when I don’t see my family. For the last seven years, we have been carving a new tradition. This year Mom made my favorite oatmeal cake; a member of our family for over one hundred years. The smell of it baking beckoned me out of slumber and into the kitchen one morning. It disappeared for Thanksgiving Day, but returned this morning. It’s silver pan taunting me…just one smell…just one taste.

6:00pm rolled around, and I could hold off no longer. My need for the oatmeal cake was too great. Grandma gathered all of the family together while Mom dug in the drawer for candles, which ended up being more difficult than you can imagine. Mom doesn’t really keep candles around anymore so in her digging came up with two white candles and six yellow candles, one of which was only one inch long. She laughed a little as she said, “I’m a bad mommy.” Then she reached for the matches. The matches that weren’t there. Apparently, Mom also doesn’t keep any matches around. This is the first time that Dad’s smoking could have been helpful (he quit smoking two years ago). Dad ran upstairs to look for a lighter; Grandpa ran to his car. Meanwhile, Mom found a box that contained exactly two matches. I lit one and it immediately went out. Mom lit the second and started in on the candles. She topped off the last candle and blew it out, taking out half of the candles with it. After two attempts to relit a match, we successfully had all 6 candles lit and the singing commenced. The troubles were over….or not so much. My sister sang in German, my dad sang off key, and Mom made up some random verse about candles. Grandma and Grandpa sang tride and true…at least I think they were singing.

I think this whole thing is a sign that my birthdays will no longer matter.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Hey!What is your problem? I baked you a cake didn't I?