“Let’s surprise Mom and Dad with a special dinner for their 50th wedding anniversary!”

I put out the call to my five siblings who lived in separate states across the U.S.

We managed to find a workable date and convince my parents that only my sister and her husband would take them to dinner to celebrate their big occasion.

When we pulled off the surprise, Mom was at a loss for words for once in her life. She and Dad could barely eat their lovely dinners at one of the most expensive restaurants in Connecticut.

Never to disappoint, though, Dad regaled the waitstaff with his usual rendition of “My Wild Irish Rose.” He always loved a party!

We had a good laugh when we discovered that, without prior consultation, all the “girls” wore their favorite floral dresses for the occasion. So, it’s no surprise that we could trace our style genes to Mom, who looked beautiful in her pastel floral dress.

One of the things I am proud of about my family is that we have strong bonds and always enjoy each other’s company.

I was grateful that my siblings decided to help our younger brother pay for his airfare to have 100% attendance for this special family event.

But it wasn’t quite 100% because one person was missing – our brother David, who died shortly after his birth. He was fourth in the birth order, between my three younger siblings and me.

As a child, we drove by his grave every Sunday after church. I grew up feeling the constant presence of his shadow. I know Mom never fully recovered from her loss because she experienced bouts of depression while raising her active family, right up until her death at age eighty.

I believe that during the anniversary dinner, David was looking down from his spot in heaven and taking his imaginary seat for the seventh child in our family tableau. If David had been a girl, no doubt he would have worn a floral dress!