It was more people than I have seen in three weeks. A senior in my twins' class had a birthday and to honor him there was a parade of ten cars packed with people who love him. Or teach him. The excitement of seeing friends left me giddy, as we got ready for the lead car to set us into action. We had brought poppers, and a chocolate bar to toss at the birthday boy, as well as some goofy socks. Other people had tied shoes onto a rope to drag behind, and balloons. Some made signs and a few just honked for all they were worth. 

It was epic. 

The entire escapade took twenty minutes, but it was the highlight of the day. There were no refreshments, no party favors. No one even had to clean their living room. But it felt pretty special.

My granddaughter got to throw rice for a wedding. The couple live near them, and since formal plans evaporated they walked down the road in ordinary clothes and neighbors cheered. That was it. 

Today I will join a stream of cars celebrating a fiftieth wedding anniversary. No small accomplishment in anyone's book, and yet any intentions the couple had last fall of a catered event with family and friends is no longer feasible. I will set a vase of azaleas by the driveway. 

 

For my daughter in law's birthday we joined a zoom call, and a dozen people chatted while she gave us a tour of the alpaca farm she and my son are staying at for the weekend. There was even a zonkey, which if you are not familiar is a hybrid. The llamas and alpacas had recently been shorn, and their fluffy heads were a stark contrast to their skinny necks and bodies, sort of like fuzzy lollipops. 

 

Our standards for entertainment, and a proper party have been scaled back. Way back. And yet the essence of celebrating people we care about has not become obsolete.