You Just Never Know

It was my brother David’s 50th birthday and I was having a surprise dinner party for him. He was to catch the Greyhound bus from Detroit Lakes, where he lived in a group home because of his debilitating Multiple Sclerosis. The bus was to arrive at 4:30 p.m. at the Fargo bus station.

Jean’s brother David poses next to the limosine that picked him up on his birthday.

I went to pick him up – but no David. Upon asking the station manager, a look came across his face, “Oh, he’s the passenger we forgot to make the DL stop for.” 

“Forgot to make the Detroit Lakes stop?” I asked in shock. What bus driver forgets to make a stop? Does this happen? Apparently! 

 “But I’m having a surprise 50th birthday party for him, starting at 6:30,” I exclaim.

The agent hesitated, then offered, “There’s another bus at 9 he can get on.” 

“Well, that won’t work,” I protested. “He’ll miss his own party.” The agent paused again, “Let me see what I can do – maybe I can call for a taxi. Don’t worry. We’ll get him there.”

Back home, at 6:15, still no David and guests are arriving. But not the guest of honor. 

My phone rings. It’s David. “Come on out on your balcony.”

I question him “What? Why?” and he repeats, “Just come out on your balcony.”  

Out I go and laughter bursts forth. There’s my brother David, leaning jauntily against a white stretch limousine. Like Cinderella, whose pumpkin turned into a golden carriage, David’s Greyhound bus turned into a gleaming limo – and it made his arrival at his birthday party a momentous occasion. 

Could it have happened any better? No. His 50th birthday turned out to be the best birthday possible . . . and his last. He died 8 months later. 

That episode in my life has always made me wonder about how events unfold. Sometimes what one expects or wants doesn’t occur, and I’ve learned to be careful about decrying the final outcome before it appears. You just never know.