Bittersweet Birthday Lunch

Yesterday was my little Angel Baby's birthday (now 13, he'd probably not appreciate knowing he's being referred as such in the blogosphere, but I've called him Angel Baby since the day he was born so he's just going to have to continue to deal with it), and my dad's birthday is in just a couple of days, so we traveled over to Dad's to take both out for a birthday lunch. Despite our server's challenges (my first inclination was to think she was on something given the blank look one second, the confused look the next, and the slightly unsteady walk as she approached our table near the end of our meal, but then I thought maybe she was ill, facing something that caused her to appear to be in a condition she really wasn't), we had a wonderful lunch of BBQ ribs, salmon, and prime rib. Just as we were finishing, Beautiful Lovely Daughter called to offer happy birthday wishes to the birthday boys. While the lunch was good and we enjoyed ourselves, I couldn't help but think about Mom, and how through the years, she had been with us the many times we celebrated the two birthdays. Though no one said anything, I'm pretty sure all of us were feeling the emptiness of her not being there.

After visiting with Dad most of the afternoon, we set out for home. Leaving him was difficult; my heart aches at the thought of him being alone. I know, though, that my sister and her husband are there for him, and I know he has plans to visit my brother Super Bowl Sunday weekend. Still, we aren't Mom, who as a young woman during their senior year in high school wrote a wistful message in Dad's yearbook, telling her future husband what a "swell guy" he was, that the end of their school days together were close, and that yes, she was so happy to be attending prom--their first official date--with him.


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