Chapter 10 - A Real Celebration
Two months later, the air was crisp and warm as autumn set over Connecticut.
Our backyard was filled with the scent of grilled burgers and fresh apple cider. There were no twelve-piece jazz bands. There were no six-tier cakes or $1,200 bottles of champagne. There were no self-absorbed influencers taking photos for social media.
It was Caleb’s ninth birthday.
Around the wooden picnic table sat Laura’s parents, my close friend Marcus from college, our neighbors from down the street, and a group of Caleb’s school friends running around the lawn playing tag.
Laura stepped out onto the porch carrying a homemade chocolate cake with nine lit candles sticking out of the top. Everyone gathered around, singing at the top of their lungs, their voices echoing in the afternoon breeze.
Caleb blew out all nine candles in one big breath, prompting a round of applause and cheers.
"Make a wish, buddy!" Marcus yelled.
"I already got my wish!" Caleb beamed, wiping a smudge of chocolate frosting off his cheek.
Later that evening, after the guests had left and the sun had dipped below the horizon, I walked into the study to finish clearing off my desk.
On the center wall, right above my computer, hung a newly framed item.
It wasn't a diploma, a corporate award, or a financial milestone.
It was the purple-lettered birthday card Caleb had made months ago. I had flattened the creases, placed it on a mat of white velvet, and sealed it behind museum-quality glass.
Happy Birthday, Grandma.
Laura walked into the room, leaning her head against my shoulder as she looked at the frame.
"It looks good up there," she whispered.
"It’s a reminder," I said, putting my arm around her waist and pulling her close.
May you like
"A reminder of what?" she asked.
"Of the price of freedom," I smiled, looking out the window into the quiet, peaceful night. "And the simple fact that the best things in life are the ones money can never buy."
