My mother made me an elmo cake.
Yes she did.
I made some wise-crack the other day about her making me a big-bird cake like when I was 6 and when I showed up at the parental home on Sunday night, Elmo awaited me.
My mother is a good cake baker! Mummm chocolate, my brother did an outstanding Elmo impression (who knew Chad watched Sesame Street) and I marveled at Liz's ability to work with frosting.
All that celebrating reminded me of another picture, another cake, another birthday. This is a shot of my Aunt Pat's birthday in 1976. That's my guess, anyway, because I think the candles on the cake represent 32. (three and two, Grandma must have been trying to save money).
After this there would be a few more birthdays. She died at 37.
Chad (mr. two-year-old next to Pat in the photo) is turning 34 next week. There are different echoes of loss as he and I come closer to mirroring the age of Ken and Pat's parting. I see my parent's loss more clearly, I suppose, and empathise with them anew.
So my birthday wish: To treasure what's here. My parents and brother eating elmo cake. Birthday cheesecake in Oregon and some other treat with friends in Atlanta. Having the congregation sing Happy Birthday to me in worship and riding my bicycle 4o miles on the morning I mark 31 years in the world. Pretty great gifts, if you ask me.
3 comments:
Great gifts, indeed.
Happy birthday, young one.
An Elmo cake? OK, now it is crystal clear to me why you and Rush are friends.
I was sad the Rushian wasn't in Kansas to celebrate. No one else could have appreciated eating a muppet-head as much as she.
mmmmm ... muppet head.
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