Can’t Go Empty Handed

Yesterday was a whirlwind of activity. Today, tomorrow and Friday look to be more of the same because I’m scrambling to put together a scrapbook album by this coming Saturday.

Returning from the dentist on Monday, hanging on my door was an invitation to join The Baker and her family in celebration of her husband’s 80th birthday.

I’m flattered she wants to include me in a family event, but I’d like to decline -- as I have in the past when she thought I might be missing my own family and invited me to join hers, in their nearby home, for Thanksgiving. 

I’ll admit to just a drop of sadness that my lot in life is to travel the remainder of this road alone, but it is what it is and, in my situation, the lesser of two evils because being close knit is not preferable when you can't help your family and family doesn't appreciate you because they are asleep in the dream -- completely unillumined. At any rate, no way could I have barged in on The Baker’s family event in the past, but this time I’m given a formal invitation and location of the event is here ... on the complex ... in the Community Room.

The Community Room has often been rented out, at $200 a pop on a Saturday or Sunday, for special events by family members of residents. The families organize the food, entertainment, put up special decorations, come from everywhere to fete their elders, and the room is off limit to us residents during those times.

The last such celebrations were also birthdays. One celebration for a 94-year-old who passed on very shortly after the event, and then for a 96-year-old who also passed on shortly after the event.

That’s not a good sign.

I don’t know if it was too much excitement or whether, after family members came from far and wide, with flowers and accolades, the seniors decided this was the apex, it isn't going to get any better than this, quit while ahead, I'm out, but it’s odd seniors don’t see another year after a party.

Needless to say, I’m a little worried about The Baker’s husband, but I do plan to attend. Don’t see how I can do otherwise without offending either her or her husband, even though I’m not only apprehensive this may result in his final call, but because the event puts me in the awkward position of odd woman out -- partying in a room full of strangers.

Not only will I be a stranger, but I’ll be standing out because the only two Blacks in the room are likely to be myself and The Seer.

I’m sure The Baker's family are the kinds of people who don’t see skin color, but The Seer will have her White Shadow to sit with, I might have The Baker’s great granddaughter – the one who took such a shine to me at the Egg Coloring Party to talk to, but I’ll otherwise be odd woman out, and you really don't know what lonely, bored and out-of-place feels like until you're in a room full of people you don't know and have nothing in common with ... strangers.

A room full of strangers is just not my thing – that is unless it’s a meditation group because meditation binds us as one entity.

At any rate, The Baker instructed not to bring anything, but I can’t walk into her family’s event empty handed. So, after racking my brain as to what is appropriate to give to the guy who wants or needs nothing, it occurred to me, inasmuch as he’s so family-oriented, a photo of his family on a coffee cup would be appropriate.

Problem is, I can’t find anywhere that can put one together on such short notice.

Starbucks use to sell Tumblers one could self-collage with photos, but I’ve not seen one of those in ages. So, with no easy way out, I luckily remembered the half-sized Creative Memories album I’ve been holding onto for more years than I can remember.

It’s the perfect solution, except I don’t have protective covers ... a necessity. I can order them, but they won’t reach me until well after the event.

I then thought about using a regular old stick the photos in the provided protective covers type album.

But that's too bland. I want to do the personalization, so I’ll just tell The Baker covers will be added to the scrapbook at a later date.

In the meantime, since I’ve taken a lot of photos over the years, I’m busting my butt looking for those taken of the birthday boy, his wife, his great grandkids from multiple sources (researching flash drives, sent emails, past print orders on various sites, the community’s facebook page). I’m so engrossed in this project that I passed on checking in with the folks at yesterday’s Pizza Tuesday, because the research took from 8:00 in the morning until 1:00 in the afternoon. I did, however, locate 38 photos I can work with.

Today, I’m off to pick up the 1-hour prints I’ve ordered, with a stop by the scrapbook store for background paper and embellishments. 

I’m scrambling but I will be taking time out at 1:00 today to attend a Basket Weaving class I’d signed up for last week. I’ve always wanted to learn that craft and it’s being taught by a legit American Indian, a relative of Apache.