When Mom walked into the reception hall, my dad actually smiled at first because he thought we were surprising him.
Then he noticed the banner behind her.
“Congratulations on 31 Years.”
Retirement party. Not family dinner.
You could see him trying to understand why all eleven of us were there dressed nice and not really talking to him. My sister Rachel wouldn’t even hug him. She just handed him a paper plate and walked off.
Mom kept acting polite in that tired way she does when she’s done with somebody already. Asked if he wanted coffee. Asked if he’d eaten. Meanwhile people around the room kept recognizing him slowly.
One of the church women whispered, “That’s Rick?” like she expected somebody bigger.
The slideshow started while he was standing near the cake table. Baby pictures, graduations, Christmases. Mostly Mom raising us alone. There were almost no pictures of him after 1998 because there weren’t any to use.
My younger brother added scans of old stuff between the photos too. Shutoff notices. Eviction warnings. Mom’s overnight janitor badge.
Dad stopped smiling after that.
Then he started talking too loud. Saying he knew he made mistakes but “families heal.” Kept looking around waiting for somebody to back him up. Nobody did.
Katie finally asked him if he remembered her birthday.
Not this year. Just in general.
He guessed March.
Her birthday’s in August.
Honestly that hurt Mom more than all the cheating stories ever did. You could tell.
Then Dad saw the memorial table near the entrance.
Family photos with candles around them.
He stared at one picture for a long time before asking why Daniel’s photo was there.
Nobody answered him right away because none of us even realized he didn’t know.
My oldest brother died eight months ago.
Dad missed the funeral because he was in Florida posting engagement pictures with a woman younger than three of his daughters.