Carol’s Chocolate BIRTHDAY cake – Photo: L. Weikel
The Baker’s Birthday
By the time I hit the ‘publish’ button on this post, it’ll be December 10th, which means it’ll be the birthday of the namesake of one of our family’s two favorite birthday cakes: Carol’s Chocolate Cake.
Sadly, since my sister lives in Massachusetts and I live in Pennsylvania, she won’t be receiving one of her chocolate cakes from me for her birthday. I know; bad little sister. But who knows? Maybe someone else will bake her one. In fact, I don’t even know if ‘Carol’s Chocolate Cake’ is considered ‘the’ birthday cake in her household.
I’m only realizing now that I should’ve baked one a few days ago and sent it to her. After all, I’ve gotten a lot of blog mileage out of her yummy delicious confection. I owe her one!
Photos Few and Far Between
Sadly, we rarely see each other. The last time I think we had our photo taken together was at Karl’s Gathering – so, eight years ago. I’ll see if I can hunt down that photo. I believe it has the rest of my siblings in it, so I probably shouldn’t post it. Some members of my family probably don’t want to be associated with me anymore.
Why?
Perhaps because I’m an unabashed feminist and liberal, and so do not apparently share the same sensibilities as some of my siblings. (And I’m undoubtedly thought of as an opinionated big mouth, too. Ha ha – not all that inaccurate, I suppose.)
Oooh, that’s so dangerous. Talking about stuff like this publicly.
Don’t worry you guys, I won’t publish your photos or mention your names. The fact that I even write that is silly. On the best day, I’m sure only two siblings, at most, read what I write. Ever.
Maintaining the Façade
It’s funny, isn’t it? The lengths we go to to maintain a façade that hasn’t been accurate in years (if it ever was). I know I always felt our family was indivisible, bonded by a love that could never be broken. Then…stuff happened.
Probably the biggest thing, I guess, was the death of our father nearly 20 years ago. And no, it had nothing to do with what people might assume when they read that sentence. It had nothing to do with money or inheritance or anything like that. It was actually, simply, the breaking of the last thread.
Our mother’s death 30 years ago was a huge loss. She truly was the linchpin of our family. But losing her didn’t tear us apart. And our father’s death didn’t either, per se. Rather, his death merely led to us all focusing upon our own nuclear families and losing our central shared focus, the hub of our familial attention, which had been our parents.
Things happened in our country, too, which exacerbated differing viewpoints that apparently had lain undetected beneath the surface. At least I was blindsided by how different we could think about life, having been raised by the same people.
Death of an Illusion
When I was a kid, being the youngest (by a lot, the closest in age being nine years older than I am) was an idyllic spot to occupy. I adored my siblings. (I still do; I’ve just learned to employ some detachment, which helps.)
I also had what I always considered the best of all possible worlds. I was the youngest of five, so I had these amazing older siblings to learn from and look forward to having visit, and just overall have as role models in my life. But in many ways I also enjoyed the benefits of being an ‘only’ child, since I was only nine when the closest sibling left for college.
Christmas time was the best, when everyone would come to our house from states far and wide, bringing with them their children – my nieces and nephews – the first three of whom were closer in age to me than my closest sibling! I finally had kids to play with! And I was ‘the oldest,’ for once. (And yes, I hang my head in shame; I did lord it over them occasionally. We won’t go there.) But having so many nieces and nephews contributed to that pervasive feeling that I truly had the best of all worlds.
I would never have imagined us all going our separate ways so starkly, so unequivocally, and, dare I say it, so harshly.
But there it is.
Happy Birthday
I probably shouldn’t hit ‘publish’ on this. I’m sure it holds little appeal to you, the readers I appreciate so very much, and probably lacks any intrinsic value, either. But you know what? Every once in a while I deeply, deeply miss what I thought we had.
I remember each and every one of my siblings’ birthdays. So of course I will be thinking about Carol tomorrow (now today).
And I guess my point in writing any of this is to remind all of us – you who are reading it, and myself who is writing it – to cherish what we have. Because you can’t count on it lasting ‘forever.’ No matter how tight you think you are with any group of people, blood or not. Things happen. People change. And what you thought would last forever can be gone like the puff of a birthday candle.
The love I have when I recall looking up to my sisters and brother will never end. Just the expression of it, I guess.
Happy birthday, Carol! I love you.
(T-718)