Fifty-nine years ago today, I came home from school. It was my special day. I had turned six. I entered the living room. My eyes bugged open ...
A pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey was draped over the back of the couch. I turned to my left, through the opening to the kitchen. An orange crepe tablecloth draped the kitchen table. Not just any old orange crepe tablecloth, a Halloween orange crepe tablecloth, one with witches riding brooms and black cats and moons and stars and stuff.
This was so cool, having a birthday right around Halloween.
I gazed transfixed at the table settings: Paper plates, genuine paper, plastic utensils, tastefully appointed party blowers - this was a kid’s version of Tiffany’s. Jelly beans gleamed from tiny bowls like rare polished gems.
I’m sure there was a birthday cake somewhere on the table, but in sheer mind-boggling wonder of it all, it has slipped from my memory, probably into the same place where missing socks from the dryer wind up.
This was definitely shaping into the best day of my life.
I turned to the person in the room responsible for making this all happen. She is no longer with us. She passed away yesterday, age 89. Love you, mom ...
Published On: October 25, 2014
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