Cake

In November, my mom celebrated her 80th birthday. We hosted a birthday bash in her honor, and it was so great to see old and new friends come out to celebrate her life, her years of service as a skilled and dedicated nurse, and her legacy of help and support. My sister, Sandy, and I started planning the event weeks earlier, divvying up the tasks and doing our best to channel our inner “event planners”. One of my tasks was to secure the cake for the event. The cake needed to be special, worthy of the momentous occasion. As it usually works with anything outside of work that I need to take care of, the task of securing the cake was duly delegated to Tex without whom I am sure the event would not have happened. Tex took the time to visit different bakeries with my list of demands…I mean requests…for the cake, including the size (it had to be a full sheet) and a picture of my mom, until he found just the right place to handle this very important deliverable.

The day of the event arrived, and while mom was at my house getting dolled up, Sandy, Tex and I spent several hours at the venue getting everything ready. The decorators were adding the final touches with balloons when Tex and Sandy left to get ready leaving me to wrap up a few things before joining them. There was a staging area adjacent to the main hall, and the door was propped open while we moved food, furniture and decorations into the building. It was a warm November evening in South Florida, minutes before the first guests were due to arrive, and as I was about to head out the door to get ready I noticed that the cake had been left on the counter right next to the propped-open door. The heat and some curious fruit flies compelled me to pause; I realized I needed to get the cake into the refrigerator before heading out. I opened the refrigerator and made room for the beautiful but large sheet-sized cake. I eased the cake off the counter and turned around to place it in the refrigerator and…uhhh…the cake folded together in my hands like a quesadilla. I froze, my eyes wide with panic. What. Just. Happened?!? My brain could not process that the cake now looked like a closed book in my hands, the top with the icing and mom’s picture now smushed together. I am not sure how long I stood there with the quesadilla, closed book, cake in my hands when one of the decorators walked in. The shock on his face confirmed that this was bad. I looked at him wide-eyed, desperate, blinking back tears. I guess the look on my face made him pull himself together. He sprang into action, taking the cake from my hands and resting it on the counter. He quickly washed his hands and proceeded to perform the cake version of CPR, trying to get the folded icing unfolded. After a couple of minutes, we both knew it was a lost cause. The other decorator walked into the room and her confusion turned to shock when she realized what happened. I was still rooted to the ground, speechless. They decided that he should go to the nearest supermarket bakery and get a new cake. I vaguely remember them asking me what to write on the cake and me scribbling “Happy 80th Birthday Nellie” on a piece of paper. Those two became my unlikely heroes in that moment, saying comforting words and assuring me everything would be okay.

Luckily, home was just around the corner. I got in my car and in the couple minutes’ drive tried to process what just happened. Mom was at the house getting ready, so I mustered all the composure I could find and, with a performance worthy of an Oscar, Emmy and Golden Globe all together, I walked into the house cool, calm and collected. I complemented mom and then nonchalantly said to my sister, “Hey walk with me over here to finalize some details”. When we were out of earshot, I whispered the situation. She listened and, sensing the rising panic in me, quickly assured me it would all be fine. Mom was wondering what was holding us up and came to find us. My sister whisked her away and headed off to the venue. They left the house and I went to find Tex who was also getting ready to leave. I told him everything and he hugged me while I allowed the emotions to take over. But we didn’t have much time, I still had to get ready and the guests were probably already arriving. Tex assured me he would oversee everything and urged me not to worry, he would follow up and make sure everything was good at the venue. I pulled myself together as best as I could and got ready for the party.

I walked into the venue a few minutes later. Some of the guests had already arrived and mom was beaming as she greeted and chatted with them. My eyes were searching the room for Tex and Sandy when I spotted it: a beautifully decorated cake, even more wonderful than the one that was ruined. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Where did they find such a beautifully decorated professional looking cake??!! I found my sister and before I could ask the question she told me that the cake that I was looking at was a gift to mom from one of the guests. Her friend wasn’t sure what to get mom as a gift so she had a special cake made for her. Unbelievable! I was speechless and amazed. I have always believed in miracles and this was another confirmation that they do happen! The decorators did get a small replacement supermarket cake with “Happy 80th Birthday Nellie” written on it, just like they said they would. That cake was served later, along with the remains of the quesadilla book cake, but the cake that was used when we sang happy birthday to mom and when she blew out the candles and made her wish was the beautiful, miracle cake. Mom had no idea about the original cake; she was able to enjoy the beauty of what was in front of her.

Sometimes when things don’t go as planned and there seems to be no hope, maybe there is a better plan that you couldn’t see before. Don’t give up. Always be open to a miracle. When we are able to let go of past failures and disappointments, we may just find something unexpected that is better than we could have ever imagined.