September 25th

September 25th is an important day to me.  It's the day my two favorite men were born--Ben and my Dad.  Ben's Grandpa and our nephew also share the birthday so it's a popular day to be born in our family.  While we were building the house, Ben and I weren't always exactly what Mr. Ryder would call "sympatico" with one another.  I may or may not have chucked him a store bought cinnamon roll (his choice of b-day cake) with a muttered "Happy Birthday" last year.  Pretty lame, I know.  I wanted to make up for it this year so I enlisted my master party planner, Samara, to help.  This is the list she came up with/dictated to me.

Does she know her dad or what?  Samara woke up at 5:15 AM, tiptoed into the room and said, "Mom, I tiptoed in so I wouldn't wake Dad up.  Can we decorate the house now?"  I stalled her for an hour while I smiled about her excitement and thoughtfulness in my half-sleep.  I'm happy to report that we did everything on the list except the Piñata and the Spiderman on the web.  We substituted that for a Spiderman-themed breakfast in bed.  And the book Ben got/wanted was a novel not about Spiderman.  But that's only because he already owns all the Spiderman comics.  

Notice the couch in the background.  Samara cleaned the "carpet room", aka family room, while I cleaned the kitchen.  She even draped the blanket over the couch and lined all the pillows up neatly on it.  She was so proud to show that off when he got home.  Lizzie, well she gives him a present everyday of the year, because whenever she sees anything to do with Spiderman she says, "That's Daddy Spiderman".  And that makes Ben more proud than anything else.  Basically, he's taught her everything she needs to know.

The students, who work in his lab, gifted him the Flash t-shirt.  And our niece got him an Avatar t-shirt.  In case you didn't notice, he's a pretty big superhero fan.  

When Ben blew out the candle, Samara whispered in my ear, "I know what he wished for.  He wants every birthday to be just like this one."  Tears.

I would actually love to learn the art of cake making someday.  I really admire that talent/skill and love seeing friends' creative cakes.  For now though, it's a good thing Ben is easy to please and all he wants are cinnamon rolls.  Plus these are homemade AND they were nicely handed to him this year.

Now, for my dad's party.

 

One of the things I love most about living here again is being able to visit my Dad's grave.  It helps me feel closer to him.  My Dad loved fruit.  Loved it.  After Ben and I got married, we'd often find a fruit salad or peeled and sliced fresh peaches on our doorstep, when we got home from school/ work.    Every year since I can remember, My dad would buy 20+ green river watermelons (the best kind in UT) and then have us kids take them around to neighbors and tell them that we grew them in our garden.  Our garden was a slab or concrete so I thought all the neighbors knew that this was just my dad being his quirky self.  Until one day (I was adult at this point), I ran into a neighbor who told me how much she missed getting one of my dad's garden watermelons each year.   Dear me!  I chuckled and told her that we never grew a single melon in our garden because we didn't have one.  I knew her pretty well so we both got a good laugh out of it.  

 I loved the Buddhist custom that I saw throughout SE Asia of leaving out fruit as an offering/gift for ancestors.  I decided if it's good enough for them and has been practiced for centuries then it's good enough for me.  Last summer, we were passing through the city of Green River on our way home from Colorado, so I, of course, had to stop and pick one up for my dad.  That started a little tradition of taking his favorite fruits to the cemetery when they are in season.  I know when my dad sees it from heaven, he lets out his hearty belly laugh that I miss so much and says, "Oh Cherylkins.  Love ya.  Love ya.  Love ya.  Squeeze ya.  Squeeze ya.  Squeeze ya.  Miss ya.  Miss ya.  Miss ya."  Those aren't typos.  When my dad really meant something he repeated it three times. :) 

I won't lie and say that I don't feel sorry for myself sometimes because he is not around to shower the girls with affection and attention.  He would have been tickled listening to me go on and on about all the clever and darling things they do and say.  And how he would have teased them.  I know they would have begged to go to his house all the time.

 Jei-Jei, which do you think makes it faster to heaven, balloons or fruit??