Celebrating Bill

My dad's favourite dessert was cheesecake. Every year for his birthday I would make him a delicious crust-less sour cream cheesecake; sometimes I'd make two, so he could have one all on his own.

His birthday was yesterday - he would have been 65. I had plans to make a cheesecake, like I do every year, and enjoy it on his behalf. Except I couldn't. This happens to me when I'm sad or depressed, or just having some feelings; I can't do the things I plan, can't make my body move the way I want it to, and lose all motivation for all the things.

The year he was diagnosed, he spent some time in the hospital; when he came home, there was no expectation that he would get better. So when he asked for Taco Bell for dinner, it was hard to deny him that. While the idea of feeding a dying man Taco Bell was kind of unappealing, nobody really wanted to tell him no.

So, he got Taco Bell for dinner. He kept it down, and his health did improve very slightly in the weeks after. A few months later he was even able to return to work for a very brief time. He joked that it was that Taco Bell, curing him and making life better.

Bill didn't need a lot of things to make him happy. Shelter, his family, a job, books. When we celebrated his birthday, he never wanted a fancy meal or big extravagant gifts. He often asked for fast food and a gift certificate to a bookstore. His tastes were simple, and his needs were easy.

So last night, feeling low about Bill and wishing we weren't celebrating his birthday without him, Stephen and I ate his favourite food - Taco Bell and a store-bought cheesecake.

I dressed mine up with blackberries and mint from my own garden. He would have hated that.