AND COUNTING
A few party details from the dad’s 75th birthday celebration.
Finally got to see (!) and own (yay!) photos from my dad’s childhood in the last decade or so. Long time coming. And perfect for copying and making a number of banners to be strewn about the place.
Silver and gold was the theme- kept it simple as opposed to honing in on a beloved book, show, or movie. Dad loves to find coins on the ground and picks them up regularly to add to the various sets he’s ordered and collected over the years. Thought I’d toss a heap’s worth here and there around his home (the party destination) for him to pick up at his leisure, after running the pros and cons of the idea. Among the bunch (coins- not pros and cons), many a foreign one, knowing he’d have fun investigating what was what and from where. In addition, silver coins- we both love ‘em! Me, from having sold movie tickets galore, dealing in bills and quarters mostly- got used to distinguishing the sound of a silver coin plunked down on the glass versus a mixed metal. I’d immediately pull it from the bunch and swap it out later on, happy for the find.
Got all the decorations up and in place, though someone put the fence stars on sideways- tall wise instead of wide wise. The only one to notice that was likely me.
Everything was nearly ready, when this happened! Bean spilled the beans.
Had all the classics our dad likes at a bbq, kept it simple.
Pickles and monkeys: requirement met.
The memory jar was a joy for my dad to read (again and again) as hoped. Some of the kindest words shared- admiration of his wit and acknowledgement for his softness of heart- any joke ever made is never at the expense of another, and if there’s the slightest hint that he may’ve hurt another’s feelings, he apologizes with the deepest sincerity. No facade there.
And this little monkey, Carl’s sweet baby boy, Julian. Best tempered little guy ever, and Carl, perhaps the best dad I’ve had the honor of witnessing. Their bond is a thing to behold, love made palpable.
The only hiccup was this sad excuse for a balloon garland, as one popped every twenty minutes or so till they all made like little shriveled raisins of their formerly plump selves.