Birthday Greetings to my Father on his 91st Birthday

Today is my father’s 91st birthday. He was born on April 13th, 1919. The day he was born was Palm Sunday, and occasionally he views Palm Sunday more as the day to celebrate than his birthday proper. My sister and I will visit him Sunday for a celebration, but I wanted to do something for him on the day of his birth. I didn’t want to detract from Sunday’s traditional birthday gathering, so I arranged to have dinner with him tonight.

I spent some time today looking for an appropriate gift. I will give it to him when we assemble on Sunday, but I wanted just a little something to offer tonight. My father has never spent money on himself, and it isn’t easy to find gifts for him because he doesn’t think in terms of wanting material things. He was born and raised on a farm, and gifts in those days were practical—he might have received work gloves or a jacket. If pressed, he will suggest buying a black shirt for him, but he already has a closet filled with black shirts and some are unlikely to ever have been worn. A few years ago I bought some shoes for him, but I never saw him wear them.

I was glad to have the opportunity to get out and do a little shopping. The weather was terrific—it was a sunny day and the temperature was perfect. The flowers and trees looked magnificent, and it was nice to be outdoors. I wandered through arts and crafts stores in search of something unique to offer him. A friend accompanied me, and we looked toward creating a scrapbook page that could be framed and hung. I thought he would like that; it is something that can be admired without having to be “used.” It is a much nicer way to say happy birthday than a simple card.

While shopping, I ran into a fellow I used to work with, and it was nice to see him. We have both struggled somewhat after we left the company that employed us, and it was interesting to allow a few minutes to commiserate together about how tough it is to make ends meet in the current economy. We noted that several of our co-workers from the old days have been fired, and it seems as if it is no longer possible to retire with any company. They will get rid of you first.

We met at my parents’ house at 5:30 PM. My friend presented him with the framed scrapbook page which detailed major occurrences in his life, as well as another page describing events that took place in 1919—the year he was born. He was most appreciative and seemed touched to find someone willing to go to all that trouble to make something special for him.

We had dinner at Carlos O’Kelly’s. The meal was nothing extravagant, but my father prefers a relaxed atmosphere and good food to a fancier menu and ambiance. He was given free dessert after his meal, but having your picture taken wearing a sombrero is the price Carlos O’Kelly’s makes you pay for their birthday wishes. He endured the costume gamely, and I noticed that the elderly can even wear a ridiculous costume and retain their dignity.



We returned to his home after dinner, conversed, and took a few photographs to remember the occasion. It was a very nice evening, and one well worth remembering.

Happy birthday, Dad—hope to have you here for lots more!

Happy Birthday, Dad!