My dad remarried soon after my mom and I moved from Chicago. I was going to take the train from Indianapolis to be the Best Man.
My mom canceled the trip in the middle of the week before the wedding. Blizzard conditions were in the forecast for the Midwest when I was scheduled to travel. The only weatherman that predicted that great snowstorm lived in my mother’s head.
I called my dad and told him that I wasn’t coming up. I was twelve years old. I could tell he was pissed off, but all he said was…
…”I’m going to miss you Moose. I was counting on having you as my Best Man.”
The next time I visited my dad was during spring break. On the wall in the dining room was a picture of my father and his new wife, surrounded by her three sons.
I hated that fucking picture. It still was hanging in the nursing home the last time I visited my dying dad.
I never forgave my mom for canceling that trip and I never forgave my dad for taking that picture without me.
Yesterday was my daughter’s birthday. I bought a fancy cake that looked like the one she picked from a picture in a magazine or nowadays, the Google search.
I was pumped that her birthday fell on a Wednesday, my visitation day. When I went to pick the Shepkids up West of Mannheim, only my middle son got into Betty the Green Blazer.
My daughter decided that she wanted to stay home at mom’s to celebrate her birthday.
But could I leave the cake?
I spent a shit load of shekels on that gorgeous cake. It wasn’t staying West of Mannheim. No way was I going to reward someone who used my daughter as a pawn to hurt me.
After my middle son left for the evening, Big George and I sang Happy Birthday to his absent sister and cut into the cake.
“This is really good dad! Do you think this lady can make me a Black forest cake for my birthday?”
That picture of my Oldman and my step family is probably in a box in one of his stepson’s closets. Something that pissed me off for all of those years is packed away in a container full of lifetime mementos. Seems pretty petty now that I let that photograph fester that whole time.
I won’t see my daughter this weekend and she will never get to taste the cake I had made for her birthday.
…. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da Life goes on, brah; La, la, how the life goes on.
Thursday brings a smile on the sun and some pleasant temperatures….
…. Go be astonished and if you want some fun, take Ob-la-di-bla-da.
