Remember

Peter sat at the table, an orange glow flickered on his wrinkled face. He stared at two candles that began to melt a bit onto his cake.

62.

“Make a wish.” 

Peter looked to his left, received a smile from a young woman. He looked to his right and received another smile from a young man. Back to the cake.

“I wish I knew where I was.”

The two young adults looked across the table at each other. A slight nod.

“We’re at your birthday party,” The women sniffled, “you’re the big six-two.”

William looked at her, squinting his eyes, “And you are?”

The woman bit hard on her bottom lip.

“That’s Surraya,” the young man chimed in, “and I’m PJ. We’re your kids dad.”

“Oh my, I’m-“ Peter put a hand over his mouth, “I’m sorry. I don’t remember either of you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Surraya’s voice cracked a bit, “you’re doing your best. You always have.”

Peter stretched out his bony hands. The woman grabbed a hold of his left. The man grabbed a hold of his right. They squeezed tight.

“I wish that I won’t forget this moment.”

He took a big breath in and blew. The orange light dissipated. Surraya arose and gave her father a hug and kiss on the forehead.

“I know it’s your birthday,” Surraya began to cut into the cake, “but the doctor says we can’t give you too much sugar.”

Peter gave her a sly smile, “We can overlook that… just this once right?”

She laughed then widened the slice by a bit more, “That’s actually the same thing you said last year.”

“You fall for it every time,” PJ shook his head.

“Have you seen the meal plans that they offer here?” Surraya handed a slice to PJ, “Between work and the kids I can hardly come by to sneak in goodies. I feel guilty.”

Peter put a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“I have grandchildren?” Tears welled up in his eyes, “I am a grandfather?”

She squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Where are they?”

“With their father for the weekend,” Surraya folded her arms and huffed, “gotta love joint custody.”

“Speaking of which,” PJ began to dig into a bag, “we brought presents!”

“Oh my god yes,” Surraya exclaimed, “Aiden and Julian worked together to make you this card and it’s adorable!”

The three looked through a handwritten card with “happy birthday gramdpa” etched in crooked lettering on the front and a crayon drawing of their family together smiling on the inside. On the back it was signed, “Love Aiden and Julian.”

Surraya gave her father a 1 year journal. She pleaded with him to write anything he could remember or did each day. Peter swore to keep up with it. She embraced him tightly.

“Ok. Ok,” PJ clasped his hands together. “I know this isn’t a competition. But frankly, if it was, I would be in first place.”

PJ handed over a colorful gift bag. His father reached in and pulled out a wooden picture frame, there was no photo in the frame and the back had a dangling cord. Peter looked perplexed.

“Let me take care of that for you,” PJ rose up and plugged the gift into nearest outlet.

The display of the frame lit up. A faint, white glow came over Peter’s face as he looked at two young boys smiling.

“Is that…” Peter gasped.

“That’s right dad,” PJ nodded his head, “those are your grandchildren.”

“That’s Aiden,” Surraya pointed, “he’s four. And this is Julian, he’s going to be ten next week. He’s a Taurus just like his grandpa.”

“My god,” Peter whispered, “This is really something. Thank you, son.”

“Of course dad.”

The picture slowly faded away and another took its place. This one was dim and a bit blurry. A tall, lanky man with a baby sitting on his neck stood next to a tall woman. She held a round boy in her arms. 

“Who are these people?”

“It’s us,” Surraya sighed, “all of us.”

“That’s you while you were working two jobs and mom was in night school. I think I was five so Surraya must’ve just been turning two, but by her head size you would’ve thought she was a full grown adult.”

PJ laughed and Surraya slapped him on the arm.

Peter was silent and gently touched the display.

“Your mother?”

“She’s uh…” PJ breathed in heavily, “she’s already gone. From cancer. It’s been about seven years.”

“What was her name?”

“Rose-Anne Davidson.”

“My god.”

The image wiped away and was replaced by a picture of Surraya in a hospital bed holding a newborn. PJ was on her right and on her left was a man whose face was mostly cropped out.

Surraya laughed, “Did you do that on purpose PJ?”

“Of course not,” the young man smiled facetiously, “the picture didn’t fit.”

The slideshow continued and the young man and woman huddled close to narrate every moment. There was Aiden’s first basketball game where he had an asthma attack. Surraya’s first and last time sky-diving. Julian’s christening. Some aunts and uncles and friends were in the mix. Eventually, Peter put the frame face down.

“Oh dad,” PJ jumped, “was the screen hurting your eyes? I can turn down the brightness.”

“No, no.” the old man groaned, “how long have I been like this?”

Surraya and PJ sat back.

“You’ve been experiencing about five years of disruptive memory-loss. But the doctor’s said your deterioration started a long time ago.”

“At first,” PJ hung his head, “around the time that Julian was born, you would check for the mail after you had already got it or… or you’d tell us a story you had already told us before.”

“We just laughed and said that was ‘dad being dad’. Mom was the only one that really thought something was wrong. Encouraged you to look into it. But once she got sick… all of our time was focused on her recovering… and and-”

Surraya’s words traveled off.

“We’re sorry dad.”

Peter looked at the card on the table.

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter smiled, “you’re both trying so hard. I’m proud to have raised two great kids. This gift, it’s amazing, but I’m not in most of these pictures. I may not remember it, but I just want to be there. With my children. And my grandchildren. So when we do this all again next year, I will know that I’m not only alive. But living.”

The young man and woman nodded at him and they all hugged and wept. PJ proceeded to take a picture of all three of them with his phone. Surraya dabbed a bit of frosting on her father’s nose and they laughed loudly. PJ uploaded the photo to the picture frame and it nuzzled itself behind their first family portrait. 

Peter held the frame in his hand and waved as the young man and woman left him.

“He said the same thing at his last birthday party.”