Birthday cakes are always a symbol of celebration.  A yummy, delightful, editable, complete- with- frosting and candle glowing symbol of a “birth” day.   

We all have our favorite kind of cake. And growing up in our house we knew without question what kind of birthday cake to make for my father.  Yellow cake with chocolate fudge frosting and it had to be cold! In other words, after the cake was baked and frosted it had to be put in the refrigerator to get cold and extra “fudgy” with the frosting. 

Now some may be going “e-yew!” cold cake, but what you don’t understand is my father was born in July, in the south!  You could not leave out a cake in the south during the time he grew up because if would melt, no AC during those days.  In fact the story he would share with us is that on the day his Mama or sister would bake his birthday cake he would sneak into the kitchen and deliberately slam the oven door so the cake would sink in the middle.  This meant extra frosting to fill in the “sink hole” the loud intrusion would make upon the cake while baking.  

Many a yellow cake with fudge frosting was made over the 79 years of my father’s life, but one in particular is a bitter sweet moment in the timeline.  My child who dearly loved her Papa could not make the memorial service.  But, instead of being “boo- hoo” that day, he reached back for a special memory, a time of celebration from childhood and specials days; celebration with Papa, birthday celebrations.  He chose, that day to make a cake, a special cake, Papa’s favorite cake:  Yellow cake with chocolate fudge frosting.  I find this to be very befitting for who someone passes, yes, it is a sad time for those left to carry on, but it is also a celebration of a life well lived.  

A special memory about my father.  

A special memory about my father.  

Each year,  since I can remember , we would spend  Christmas eve shopping for Mom. My dad would always have off the 24th of December and  he and I would get up early that day.  He had the "list" and I had the  "secret one" I had made because  I was my Dad's "elf”. and would listen and watch my  Mom to gain ideas of what she wanted for Christmas. 

Later, after all the dashing and running around to the shops, we would then have a nice lunch. Always at a very nice restaurant, the kind where they had the foil  wrapped mints after your meal. We would recount the day and double check our lists and treasures we found together. It was also our time to catch up with each other with no major distractions. Our special day I could look forward to each year.  Just me and my daddy. 

 It was not the shopping or the “stuff"  that made the day.  But, for me was seeing the joy in my father's eyes and his laughter as he found the perfect gift for his lovely bride of 58 years.  Just being with him that day each year and enjoying our time together.  

 Even years later, after I went away for college and  moved away from home if I was  fortunate to be home for the holidays, Dad and I would still enjoy this  special tradition. 

Daddy, 
It  has been a week ago today, we all said "good bye" to you and celebrated your life with all our family and friends.  I miss you so much, but memories such as these will always make me smile and laugh and still feel your "hugs".  

I love you daddy, 

Your "little girl" 
Lori