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I attended my son-in-law Tim’s retirement party last weekend. If you’re surprised, you should have seen the look on Tim’s face when he returned home to find family members and friends gathered on his patio. Tim isn’t actually retiring, he’s changing jobs, and my daughter Victoria found that a good enough reason to throw a party.

It was a gorgeous day to sit outside and watch football, play cornhole, sit on a blanket with a few babies, play volleyball, or jump in the bounce house.

If I hadn’t been so busy holding babies and visiting with people, I would have spent more time thinking of how much it reminded me of Sunday afternoons at my Memere’s house in Mt. Airy or my Maw Maw Jello’s in Reserve. Those days were filled with fun, games and conversations that never ended, just paused until the next time everyone met.

Later in life, the festivities often took place at my house, and my sister and next-door neighbor Kay always found an excuse to bring a cake. We once had a birthday cake for her son-in-law who was living in California. As devoted Survivor fans, we ordered a “Goodbye Richard” cake every week because we were sure he would get kicked off. (He won.) And sometimes we had cake because somewhere, someone was celebrating their birthday and we wanted to celebrate, too.

I’m so proud of Victoria for taking a day she could have used to rest, (Her son Maverick doesn’t yet sleep through the night.) and turning it into a beautiful memory. But between us, she didn’t have a cake.

 

Ronny Michel can be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com.