The lights flickered on and off just before the thunder and lightning came. Then the six-foot ladder blew right off the back deck while Heather and I were hunched over the couscous and cucumber salads, chopping away. Just when I thought the foul weather might be a bad omen for the party, Dennis entered and announced, “It always storms on my birthday. This is great.”
And so it was.
You should have seem him out there in his storm jacket, grilling sausages in the downpour. With a flashlight. He and Tom had spent most of the day rigging a tarp over the pergola in case there was the slightest chance that people would want to go outside. There wasn’t.
But indoors it was gorgeous and candle-lit and cozy. Friends and family had driven across bridges and through the rain to celebrate with us. Everyone was smiles and happy-to-see-you’s and dressed adorably.
One of my favorite moments was when Shelley (gorgeously preggers with twins!) had the brilliant idea of re-staging an old photo of Dennis with some of his best friends.
This was taken in August of 1988:
Oh my gosh, we are all so old. But the guys just get better with age, don’t they?
The party is over, but the happy energy still lingers. We cozy up to the fire these last cold nights, with our tea and books and puzzles. In spite of the dark, stormy outside, the sweet energy from the birthday fete lingers, and we hope Little J still believes us when we assure him he didn’t miss a thing!