I wanted to do it right. I wanted to please her. I’ve come to realize these two things are the essence of her effect on me. I had in mind to get her a mylar balloon, because they stay up forever and are a nice reminder for someone who has no memory. I found the perfect design in the display at the local Party City, but they had just sold their last one the night before. Are there any other Party City stores on the way to Berkeley? I ask the cashier. Well, there’s one in Richmond. OK, call them, do they have it? Yes, they have six. So I go off, way out of my way, it turns out, with a GPS which is outdated enough that it eventually gives up on trying to get me there. I pull into a strip mall and get directions. I finally find the store and ask for the balloon, and – the design has been changed! It’s still “Happy Birthday Mom” but not colorful tulips anymore, just spindly little line drawings of flowers. I’m trying to get this right and please her. I settle for a plain old “Happy Birthday” balloon, and buy little letters I can stick on that spell “MOM” and “90TH.”
I arrive with my balloon, a present wrapped in tulip paper with cards from my family, and a cake with “Happy 90th Birthday Mother” with a frosting design that includes tulips, of course. We have a lovely time. We read all the cards. Everyone eats cake, including the staff. My mother smiles her biggest smile for the balloon. “Cute,” she says. She likes the shirt I chose for her! I pleased her!
When it’s all over and I’m saying goodbye, I ask her, “Did you have a good birthday?” At first she nods and smiles, but then she says, “No, I did not.” I ask her what made it not a good birthday. “You weren’t there.” I laugh to myself, and come up with “It sounds like you really like it when I’m here.” No response. I don’t correct her; I just start describing the party, the present, the cards, the cake… ”Cake!” she says with a big smile.
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