“I’ve decided to do it.”
“Good,” Nellita quickly replied having no clue what her sister had determined to accomplish.
Pause.
When her sister did not respond, Nellita tried to clarify, “Naomi, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I am requesting the nineteenth off.”
“Your birthday? That’s funny. I thought you didn’t want to think about which number of years is attached to this birthday. Not to mention, we rarely celebrated our birthdays on the actual day. What’s changed?” Nellita still did not understand.
No answer came. But the sounds of sobs from Naomi told Nellita there was a lot more to the story.
“Sis, what’s wrong?” Nellita asked.
Through the tears came the explanation, “I want to have a birthday party on my birthday,” Naomi forced herself to speak. “Because I think this is probably the last birthday that Mom will know who I am.”
Nellita had tried to keep up with their mother’s decline. But moments like this made the distance factor more challenging than other times.
 
“Why do you think that?” Nellita was trying to comprehend.
“She doesn’t call me by name anymore. Sometimes she refers to you and me; but then she doesn’t seem to realize that the little girl she once knew as Naomi is me. Then there are other times, when it’s clear that she knows exactly who I am. But those times seem to be getting less and less,” Naomi continued.
“Sorry.”
“It never ceases to amaze me how I take things for granted. I keep thinking I know what to expect, then the next challenge hits like a brick wall,” Naomi confided in her favorite person.
“I don’t even know what to say,” relented Nellita.
“That’s OK. I understand. Well, I need to get off the phone. I have a birthday cake to order.” Naomi found new strength.
“Make it a doll cake,” Nellita suggested.
“Oh, I had forgotten. Mom made me a doll cake every year when I was little. She’ll like that,” spoken with tears that could no longer be stopped.
But after the call, Naomi did not have the emotional stamina to do anything. She could not call to order the cake. She looked at the phone as if it were a puzzle. Something inside her was still holding back. Nellita was right. She was dreading the number of years that came with this birthday. But now that did not mean anything. She thought about the birthdays her mom had given to her and her sister so many years ago.
That’s what she wanted. Laughter. Balloons. And a doll cake. More than anything, she wanted her mom to be happy. She wanted to share a new memory. Even though Ella would not remember it by the time the party ended, for a moment, Naomi wanted to be happy.
 
The next day at work, she started to tell her supervisor that she needed the day off from work. Words got stuck part way through the first sentence.
“Naomi, are you all right?” asked her manager.
“Yes, I need time off,” she finally found the words.
“How much time?” thinking that Naomi was very stressed and needed time for herself.
“Just one day. The nineteenth,” replied Naomi.
“What’s wrong?” came words that tried to be supportive.
“It’s nothing,” Naomi tried to minimize the request. But with acknowledging the event, her emotions were stronger than her control. “It’s my last birthday.” The flood of tears drenched her cheeks.
“What?”
“By this time next year, if we have another year with my mom, I doubt that she’ll know who I am.”
After that momentary meltdown, Naomi worked hard to keep her composure for the rest of the day. Then on her way home, she stopped by the bakery. She noticed immediately as she walked inside, there waiting on the counter, was an example of the perfect doll cake.
Naomi took time to gaze at the doll’s brown hair, blue ruffled icing dress, and a painted smile. She let her memory take her back in time. Her mom brought in a cake that looked almost exactly the same as the treat in front of her right now. With the delight of a child, Naomi announced that this was the cake she wanted. She would stop by the afternoon of the eighteenth to take it home.
 
Then, stopping by the store that specializes in party items, she bought party hats, cups, plates, and of course balloons. She even bought one of those streamers that spelled out
“H-A-P-P-Y B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y.”
“This is going to be fun! I hope.” Spoken with a hint of grief.
As the days approached, Naomi could think of nothing else. Perfect parties had never been a priority. But this time, she wanted nothing less.
The morning of the eighteenth, she told her mother she would be late picking her up from the center. Naomi knew Ella would not remember that she told her, but it seemed like the thing to do.
All day long her co-workers commented that something seemed different about Naomi. She would smile and purposely not say why. “It’s just like any other day.” Her words said one thing, but her heart knew different.
At the end of her work day, she walked into the bakery with a smile. She proudly strutted up to the counter and announced, “I have an order for a doll cake.”
When they brought it out, Naomi’s smile turned into a portrait of someone who might be sad or happy. It was hard to tell. Scrutinizing each detail of the cake, one small tear trickled down her face.
“Is it OK? I thought we made it just the way you ordered it,” came the voice from behind the counter.
Suddenly realizing she was being spoken to, “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s perfect.” Wiping her tear, “Sincerely, It’s more beautiful than I thought it would be.”