memorable milestones

When the text came in, "Do you have time to grab a balloon arrangement from the dollar store?” I wondered if I was doing enough for the joint party. Enough for the dad and brother we all loved.

Especially, the brother that we sometimes secretly competed to be the best champion for . . . and yet had come to the understanding that in his way, he liked us all to think we were his favorite. His fetal alcohol syndrome giving us the space to love unconditionally and yet, only because others cared for him daily, were we able to do so without burden.

Another text to the sister group chat, “Do you think we need something outside? Like a sign?”

Again, as it was the last day of school with students, I could start doing these extras, in addition to the fruit, and controversially, the vegetable platter. I offered to make a sign. I was sternly directed not to spend money on it.

“They’re about $50 to have one printed.”
“No!”

The day before the party, I headed to an office store (crucially and tragically not the dollar store) to pick up some poster board. I noticed the mylar balloons and the helium tank. Yes!

When I inquired about the cost of the package of 6 mylar balloons, the “balloon guy” gave me a price that seemed reasonable. He informed me that the mylar balloons were free to blow up, but that the latex were an additional $1. This should have set off an alarm bell, but I went with mylar. The mylar also would last until the next day (party date), whereas the latex would have sunk. He pointed to a number 6 floating near the ceiling which had been there for “almost 3 weeks now.” The mylar also came in number shapes. Perfect for milestone birthdays!

As the helium man ripped open the packages, measured out the ribbons, tied them to the mylar and blew up the balloons: 2 packages and 4 numbers, he cheerfully chatted about how these balloons got him to 700 balloons blown up that day. I marveled. He noted that had I come even 30 minutes earlier, I would have had to wait at least an hour. I had come at the perfect time.

Attaching the plastic clasps to form bouquets, he handed over the bunches and the opened packages to bring to the register with the posterboard I had collected for the party signs.

At the register, I was unprepared for the almost $100 bill. The price quoted earlier had not been for the package, but PER balloon!

I texted the receipt to the group chat. A difficult conversation was in my near future.

Suffice to say that there was fierce resistance and grace from various sources.

The next day, I attempted to make amends to ensure that the festive atmosphere could be preserved for the party. A few Venmo payments and refunds back and forth, a memo “No further payment is needed. Your refund is not accepted!” was left as the final words.

At the party, our dad gifted us with a copy of his life story that had been his Father’s Day present last year (a series of prompts that became a book). A party goer remarked, “This is such a sweet day.” And we took a family picture outside (no party decorations included).

Half century brother!

The original sender of the balloon text, is the only person to post a photo of the balloons at the party.