That Day on the Neva River

I wondered if Dad, turning 80 and fading, remembered anything about our past

- Jeremy Knoll

It’s a small party, just as dad would want it: Mom; my older sister, Melissa, and her family; me, my wife and our two kids; and Dad. All the attention makes him squirm anyway. The plastic birthday crown we’ve put on him, the T-shirt announcing his new status as an octogenarian, a ribbon labeling him “World’s Greatest Grandpa.”

Mylar balloons bob near the ceiling, tethered to a chair. Instead of making me happy, they remind me of my father’s mortality. What happens when the balloons are released, drifting into the sky until they are only a memory? How will I manage when Dad is no longer around?