What
a swell party that was.
I
was a bit wired and tense all day without really knowing why, just wanting so
much for the day to go right for him. He’d had some cards already and in the
morning we opened them and a few of the presents. Envelopes are beyond Nick now
but he can tear open wrapping paper like a child, just flinging the bits on the
floor, gleefully revealing some new aftershave, some chocolates and some audio
books. An early Bruce Springsteen CD that he had always loved but had got lost
or borrowed and somehow never replaced. A set of sturdy handled “good grip”
cutlery to help him eat more easily. Some hankies and – piece de resistance – a
very beautiful chunky pipe because we are trying medicinal cannabis as a muscle
relaxant.
I
am not totally convinced about this – is it just another avenue for his
addictions? - but Nick says he really feels the benefit (well he would,
wouldn’t he! I think to myself) and naturally both our teenage sons are keen to
back it up with extensive research they’ve done on the internet. I’m still not
totally convinced but if it makes him happy…and unlike the wine, he probably
won’t be able to operate it on his own and will need some assistance. “What, from your lot?” said a friend,
laughing raucously.
We
said we’d drive him out to the countryside to have lunch in a nice pub, but I
had gone over a kerb on the way and the tracking had suddenly gone AWOL so with
the steering swinging wildly around like a dinghy at sea, we didn’t dare. It
would have to be the nearest place with a car park, ten minutes from his flat.
Which just happened to be a pub both Nick and I had worked in about a thousand
years ago. All through lunch I felt terrible that I’d messed up his treat, but
actually he said it was fun to be somewhere with so many memories of his
younger self and all his antics.
And
the party…I could just not have asked for more. We’d invited four friends of
mine who have got to know Nick and really taken to him, there were the three of
us, and lots and lots of food and fizz. Fizz all round. One friend brought
flowers, another one some bunting from Nepal, everyone brought cards and wine
and then, though I hadn’t dared expect he would really come, a surprise guest
of honour – one of Nick’s great friends from way, way back who had seen the
Facebook post and got in touch. I hadn’t told Nick as I honestly didn’t think
he would actually come but it was like one of those tear jerking TV reunion
shows to see him walking in to the room and Nick’s dawning register that it was
him, his old mucker.
So
it was a great birthday. A swell party. And more to come, even if our car is
off the road and we have to push him in that blinking war-horse of a wheelchair
with bits falling off it.
