Today I’m thinking about “cake”. Cake comes in many shapes, sizes and delicious flavours and, although it can be eaten anytime, is often considered an important part of a celebration. This week-end, we had a family gathering to celebrate two birthdays… my brother Michael’s and my daughter Cailyn’s. Since there were two different people to celebrate, there were two different cakes: a sweet and tangy lemon and cream cake; and, a triple chocolate mousse cake. There were very few of us that walked away with only one piece 🙂 !!
The gathering was extra-special because a dear family friend from Florida was visiting. He and his family have been in our lives for 50+ years. It was wonderful that all of our schedules could collide for him to participate in a double-birthday party.
Another celebration that features cake is the “no more chemo cake” tradition at Camp Trillium‘s Family Camp. At the last camp lunch, cakes are offered to any child who has completed their chemotherapy protocol in the months leading up to camp, and who wishes to participate. It is a significant production with a couple dozen “special friends” (counsellors) circling the dining hall, beating on pans, and singing the “Happy No-More Chemo Cake” song. It is sung to the same tune as the Flintstone’s “Happy Anniversary” song.
Whether the tradition is performed for one child or ten, it is an emotional experience. The group of counsellors circle the hall a couple of times before each delivery, everyone in the room is singing, clapping and waiting expectantly to see who is the lucky recipient. The dining hall is filled with anticipation and joy, longing and sadness. Every time I have witnessed the process, my emotions see-saw with the contrasting emotions flying around the room.
As a result of stopping chemotherapy at the end of March, Cailyn was asked if she wanted to participate. Her answer was “no”. I asked her “why not?” She didn’t respond initially but when I persevered, she said that she didn’t want to be the centre of attention. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something more… after all, this wouldn’t have been the first time she was a recipient of a no-more-chemo-cake… she got her first cake the summer of 2008 and she unfortunately appreciates that the wonderfulness of the tradition didn’t guarantee her “no more chemo”. I told her that I wasn’t going to force her to participate but that I thought her achievement was worth celebrating!! Just because we can’t predict the future doesn’t mean we shouldn’t acknowledge the preciousness of the moment.
Our special-friend talked to Cailyn and suggested that she could bring the cake over to her separately, without the fan-fare. I’m thankful, as you can see in the picture, that she agreed…
