It's Easter Sunday, for many the most holy day of the entire year. For us, the day included church, then naps, then clean up the house a bit, then have a birthday party.
Our family has several people with April birthdays. April also has Easter, so in a way, we can knock out several celebrations at once. We did that today. As the rain fell and the thunder shook life outside, we had an amazing dinner, delicious desserts, and presents.
So, when the cake came out, it begged the question...8219 or 1982? Okay, I admit, it's not a great question. It's not really a real question. It did spark conversations around the dinner table. Since 1982 was an actual thing for several of us at the party, we talked about the year 1982. In 1982 I was sixteen-years old. I had my drivers license and a car (kind of...). The 1965 green VW beetle was like a car. I worked summers at Lagoon and I think I work the other seasons at the Heidelberg Restaurant serving the finest in German and American food in all of Farmington, Utah.
In 1982 my older (and only...) brother graduated from high school. I remember him leaving school. He was a big personality (still is...) and I wondered what high school life would be like without him roaming the halls and without all the girls in high school not believing me that we were related.
1982 started a new phase in my life. I was no longer my older brother's little brother. I became myself, in many ways. I returned to school a junior. Things had changed.
Of course, as we sat around the table this evening, no one talked about the year 8219, except to know that none of us would be around to see that year. Then again, you never know.
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