My camp cabin in Vermont sits very close to the road (I am prone to say “slap on the road”).  Our road is very popular  with hikers and walkers, and most days when I am washing dishes, I can look out of my sink window and see people walking past. They usually glance in and we exchange waves.

My sister Tracey visited us in July, and we took a long road trip to Bangor to take the Stephen King tour. It was about an eight hour drive, so when we arrived back home we were tired of sitting and Tracey, my husband Danny, and I stood around our kitchen island to eat pizza. I glanced over to the sink window and noticed my neighbor walking past, and I waved to her. She waved back, and was looking through the window back and forth into the kitchen and looking a little curious. She hadn’t met Tracey yet, so I assumed she was wondering who she was. She waved and continued on her walk.

By the time she came back down the road, we were outside and I called her over to meet Tracey. I introduced them, and made a remark about our “classy” standing pizza dinner. She said “I thought it must be a formal affair, since that man was wearing a white shirt and necktie.”.  I said “What man?”, and she said, “The man in the kitchen standing around the  island with you. He was wearing a white shirt and necktie.”. Tracey and I exchanged glances. I said “No one was there but us three.” She insisted there was a man there, about Danny’s height, and changed the subject. My neighbor is not “spooky” in the least, a very practical and pragmatic New Englander not prone to flights of fancy.

Tracey, Danny and I were all wearing black or dark grey t shirts. There was no way any of us could have been perceived as wearing a white shirt and tie.

I was certain of who the extra guest was. Later, I asked Tracey her thoughts on who it might be. She answered without hesitation- “Dad”.

Our dad wore a white shirt and a tie six days a week before he retired. He passed away two years ago. The day of the stand up pizza dinner was July 10th. Dad’s birthday. He wanted to celebrate with us. Happy birthday, Dad!

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