Today is Kris’ birthday. He would have been 31. On the morning he was born, I was staying with my grandparents. My grandma had to wake Jake and me up to tell us we had a phone call. I held the phone up to my ear as the sun shined through the kitchen window. It was good news. I remember the moment as if it had happened this morning.
We get together every year on his birthday for dinner. When we were all kids, pizza was how we celebrated every birthday. For several years after Kris died, we kept this pizza tradition going. This year we are changing things some and going to a centrally located park for a picnic and games for the kids. The weather should be perfect with partially cloudy skies and temperatures in the 70’s. Everyone is planning on being there.
This year we almost had a major scheduling conflict with Nancy’s family. Fortunately everything worked out when the other event was moved. Actually, I didn’t even know about the conflict until it had already been resolved. Even so, I was pretty frustrated about it and glad I wasn’t forced to make a choice. This was a bit of a jolt that gave me some time to think about this yearly tradition with my family and what it means to me.
Over the years, and for several reasons, the gathering has evolved to represent more than just Kris’ birthday. The biggest reason is that most of the people coming tonight never met Kris. When he died, almost 10 years ago, our family consisted of 10 people, including six adults, one teenager and three grandchildren under the age of three. Now there are 11 grandchildren, none of whom have memories of their uncle Kris. Additionally, the teenager, now 25, will bring along his girlfriend and her young daughter, bringing this year’s total up to 20 people.
Since most of the people attending know or remember Kris only from stories and photos, change is inevitable. Additionally, this is often the only family event everyone makes an effort to attend, and because most of my mom’s sons have birthdays in the summer, this celebration is almost as much for all of us who are there, as it is for the one who is not.
That is not to say that Kris’ birthday will be pushed aside or forgotten in any way. Oh no, my mother will never allow that. She will have a big sheet cake with candles for the grandchildren to blow out. She will have balloons for each child to release into the heavens at the end of the day. She may even make everyone sing the happy birthday song, though this is less likely as the years roll on.
In reality there was no scheduling conflict at all. Tonight, like last year, and the years before, like next year and every year following, I’ve already chosen what I’m doing on the evening of the 22nd of June. Regardless of what the weather is like, or what else is going on, or who else is there, I will be at dinner with my mother and brothers, celebrating the birth and life of my brother Kris.
This isn’t an obligation for me, nor will it ever be an event I will just make an appearance at before quickly heading off to something else. I go because I want to go and because it is important to me. I go because I want to remember my brother’s birthday and because my other brothers will be there too. I go because, well, even if there is no pizza, I like birthday parties.
We get together every year on his birthday for dinner. When we were all kids, pizza was how we celebrated every birthday. For several years after Kris died, we kept this pizza tradition going. This year we are changing things some and going to a centrally located park for a picnic and games for the kids. The weather should be perfect with partially cloudy skies and temperatures in the 70’s. Everyone is planning on being there.
This year we almost had a major scheduling conflict with Nancy’s family. Fortunately everything worked out when the other event was moved. Actually, I didn’t even know about the conflict until it had already been resolved. Even so, I was pretty frustrated about it and glad I wasn’t forced to make a choice. This was a bit of a jolt that gave me some time to think about this yearly tradition with my family and what it means to me.
Over the years, and for several reasons, the gathering has evolved to represent more than just Kris’ birthday. The biggest reason is that most of the people coming tonight never met Kris. When he died, almost 10 years ago, our family consisted of 10 people, including six adults, one teenager and three grandchildren under the age of three. Now there are 11 grandchildren, none of whom have memories of their uncle Kris. Additionally, the teenager, now 25, will bring along his girlfriend and her young daughter, bringing this year’s total up to 20 people.
Since most of the people attending know or remember Kris only from stories and photos, change is inevitable. Additionally, this is often the only family event everyone makes an effort to attend, and because most of my mom’s sons have birthdays in the summer, this celebration is almost as much for all of us who are there, as it is for the one who is not.
That is not to say that Kris’ birthday will be pushed aside or forgotten in any way. Oh no, my mother will never allow that. She will have a big sheet cake with candles for the grandchildren to blow out. She will have balloons for each child to release into the heavens at the end of the day. She may even make everyone sing the happy birthday song, though this is less likely as the years roll on.
In reality there was no scheduling conflict at all. Tonight, like last year, and the years before, like next year and every year following, I’ve already chosen what I’m doing on the evening of the 22nd of June. Regardless of what the weather is like, or what else is going on, or who else is there, I will be at dinner with my mother and brothers, celebrating the birth and life of my brother Kris.
This isn’t an obligation for me, nor will it ever be an event I will just make an appearance at before quickly heading off to something else. I go because I want to go and because it is important to me. I go because I want to remember my brother’s birthday and because my other brothers will be there too. I go because, well, even if there is no pizza, I like birthday parties.
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