methodist musings

as i sit at the kitchen table at 7:45am waiting for everyone else to wake up, i just enjoyed a piece of blackberry jam cake. yesterday was my dad’s birthday, he’s 59 now. when my wife and i arrived at their house my parents were in the kitchen and my dad was slaving over the mixing bowl stirring in ingredients. “you remember this cake?”. “no”, i replied. “it was your grandfather’s favorite,” dad said.

i knew then that the cake wasn’t about his birthday necessarily. it was about remembering his parents, and celebrating the lives of family at a time that the celebration could be shared with his kids. dad worked and worked on that cake. prepared to two layers carefully, baked them, ensuring that everything was just perfect each step of the way. the first layer laid on the plate and covered with the caramel icing, the second layer delicately placed on top, and the icing spread on that layer.

after the traditional christmas eve dinner of oyster stew, the cake was presented on the table. we sang happy birthday, dad blew out the candles, and each of us received a slice. we sat together and enjoyed that cake. each bite filling us with joy, not only from the smile on dad’s face for the pride he took in his work, but from the memories of my grandparents, and the joy of family gathered around the table.

mom told me later that dad had spent hours on the cake, wanting it to be perfect each step of the way. we emailed pictures of it to our uncle in cincinnati, with dad’s note attached about how good it was…

a tribute to a dad. the pride my dad has in his father, and mother…something special to be shared with family. that’s the important thing this christmas eve…

we took plenty of pictures, and look forward to getting the prints. these are memories to be treasured for years to come.