there were the parties when we were kids with the huge smurf cakes and all that, as we grown older it became more of a intimate family affair, which i like. it's usually late night, bring out the cake, all dressed or not fully dressed in our home clothes for the candles, the cutting, for a slice or mouthful depending on how heavy dinner was. dad has always made it a point to have a cake for each of our birthdays and that's something i hold on to and hope to keep going.
few days before mum's birthday, even in his frail state, he reminded me to get a cake for her and even wanted to give me some money for it. got the safe choice, mango. that's the last birthday he celebrated with us. he left 3 days after that. i always wanted to believe he waited to at least do that.
it's difficult thinking about this. so the mention of not celebrating a birthday of a father hits me. i felt guilty but most of it i was overwhelmed with the regret that there isn't any more birthdays I can celebrate with him. The candles, the birthday song, the cutting, the rough photo taking in our most unglam home attire.
it's probably a very lousy way to look at it but every birthday is one less you can celebrate with the person you love.