There is something sad and beautiful about the abandoned decorations after a birthday party. Today my neighbors across the street held a party for a little girl. I watched as the adults strung a banner with triangular pennants on it, twisted pink ribbon around the posts of the carport, and tied small bunches of pink and blue balloons to the stop sign. They finished decorating early, before the guests arrived, so I could see the long table and metal folding chairs waiting expectantly under the shade of the carport.
Later, when I looked out the window, I saw that the chairs around the table were filled. The adults had carried larger wooden chairs from the dining table outside for themselves. They blocked my view of the children. There was something sweet and innocent about the way the adults sat watching the activities of the children. It was as if they too were participating in the party, felt that it was important and meaningful.
I thought of my birthday parties growing up and tried to remember if there were so many adults in attendance then, supervising us children. I don't remember; I guess it's because when you're four or five, you don't really pay attention to what grown-ups are doing. For the first time, I imagined what it would be like to attend a child's birthday party again, this time as an adult. I look forward to the day when I can go to parties for my children or nieces and nephews, sit in the "big people" chairs and enjoy watching the simple pleasures of childhood.
At this party was a very tall boy, maybe late teens or early twenties, who wore a Braves baseball cap and tight jean shorts. At one point, he walked over to the edge of the yard to smoke a cigarette. One young woman wore a short purple cotton dress. Another woman wore a long jean skirt. Then of course, there was our neighbor, the old man who always wears a Mr. Rogers sweater, even in today's 80-degree weather.
Another time I looked out the window and everyone had gone inside, except for one woman who sat alone facing the empty table. I wondered what she was thinking and why she sat by herself. They came back out and the children played tug-of-war with a short yellow rope with a pink bandanna tied in the middle. I think the birthday girl won her match. She wore a knee-length grayish purple tutu.
By 7:30, just as the sun was beginning to set, the guests had all gone home. The decorations stayed behind, the pink and blue balloons dull in the fading light.
