Yesterday, they gave me my birthday present, since they hadn’t been here for my birthday. They also mentioned wanting to go to Parnassus Books in Nashville today. My sister-in-law is an English professor, and they’d been reading about author Ann Patchett’s bookstore and had seen her appearance on “The Colbert Report” talking about the store. I’d been wanting to see the store myself, even though, as a Kindle user, I’ve gone over to what my brother  considers the Dark Side.

Dad had a funeral to take care of today at the funeral home where he works part-time.

So we drove to Nashville this morning, had a pleasant time at the bookstore, wandered around the Mall at Green Hills, then stopped at Toot’s South in Murfreesboro for lunch. Mike wanted to take the scenic route back to my Dad’s house. (That part should have raised a red flag, but I guess I’m a little dense.)

As we drove up to my father’s house, I noticed an extra car in the driveway. As we pulled in, I noticed several extra cars.

It was at that point I realized I had been had.

It was a surprise 50th birthday party. Dad did not have a funeral today after all, and the Parnassus trip – however enjoyable – had actually been for the purpose of getting me away from the house for a while so that he, Mrs. Rachel, my sister, my other brother and the rest of my nieces and nephews could set things up. The guests included my pastor and his wife, my Sunday School teacher and his wife and my former editor Mark McGee.

I have to admit, I did not suspect a thing. Not a blooming thing. It was a lovely party.

Jacob’s graduation, by the way, was a great time as well. You will remember that he was both an award-winning football star (who has a scholarship to play this fall at the University of North Alabama) and a basketball star. Neither of those things prevented him from being third in his class – and he missed being salutatorian by only the thinnest of margins. He spoke at the graduation as class president, and did a terrific job.

Tomorrow should be a nice morning as well. Dad pastored at Blankenship (which was then part of a three-point charge) for 16 years, starting around the time I was graduating from high school. When he was there for the opening of their beautiful new sanctuary earlier this year, he noted that they did not have a nice chair for the pastor. He and Mrs. Rachel decided to buy a chair in memory of Mom and of Mrs. Rachel’s late husband Clayton. The chair is finally in and ready to be dedicated.

By the way, when we were at my sister’s house after graduation last night in Linden, Mrs. Rachel pointed out the earrings and necklace she was wearing to my sister and me. They were, it turns out, a secret pal gift to her from my mother, back when Dad was pastor at Mt. Olivet and Mom and Mrs. Rachel were in the United Methodist Women together. It was a lovely moment of recognizing Mom’s presence even in the midst of her absence. She would have been very proud to have been sitting in the bleachers watching her grandson Jacob get his diploma, just as she was proud to see Jacey cross the stage two years ago.

In some ways, the passage of time distills down to lost opportunities. But I’m reminded in several ways today of things in which I take a lot of satisfaction. This morning, I’m going to Tullahoma to appear on cable TV talking about the symphony concert. I believe they post this show to YouTube the next day, and I’ll put up a link to it if that’s the case.

If I get done there soon enough, I will rush back to Shelbyville for a birthday lunch with Dad — but he’s got to work a funeral this afternoon, and so we’ve only got a certain window.

Then, tonight, I have Relay For Life meetings, both to review how we did at the crawfish festival and to do some intensive planning for the Relay itself, which is coming up in less than a month.

My wonderful co-workers, knowing I was taking today off, surprised me Monday with a display at my desk, a birthday cake and other munchies.

It should be a good day today.

I know; in the past couple of days, I’ve put out three yard signs for the upcoming “Symphony At The Celebration” concert. I have five to put out, but it’s been an incredibly busy week at work, and I’ve only had time to put out three of them. And I’m scared I didn’t do a good job with two of those; the ground is so hard that the little wire stands tended to bend rather than punch through the dirt.

I need to put one of my remaining signs somewhere on North Main Street. I need to ask Dawn for a suggestion, if I can get in touch with her.

Dawn Holley is the long-time chair of the local steering committee for the concert. Up until this year, my title has always been “publicity chairman.” This year, Dawn and I are co-chairs, and Dawn is at a conference this week, so I found myself attempting to stamp pipecleaner signs into what feels like the Bonneville Salt Flats.

No matter. We’re already getting the word out about the concert. Next Tuesday, I’m driving to Tullahoma to appear on a community access cable TV program to discuss it. I’ve been sending out press releases, and two different radio stations are giving tickets away. (It’s not that pricey a giveaway item – adult general admission is $5, and children or students of any age don’t even need a ticket.)

If you haven’t been around me for more than 15 seconds, I have to explain that this symphony concert is one of the great passions of my adult life. The Nashville Symphony has been coming to Shelbyville annually since 1989 (there was, at one point, a year-and-a-half gap when we switched from a fall concert to a spring concert). I attended the very first concert – I think I’ve attended all of the official public concerts – and wrote about it in the newspaper. But it wasn’t until a couple of years later that I became actively involved. The concert had been started by one of our local industries, but when that industry changed hands they dialed back their support and a bank stepped in. The bank was then known as First American Bank, and the late Scott McDonald was its president. Scott was the one who invited me to be a part of the steering committee. A year or two after that, Bedford County Arts Council got involved, and that was how Dawn came into the picture.

Scott McDonald, one of the most community-minded men it’s been my privilege to know, had a vision of the concert as an educational tool. That vision has become even more of a reality in recent years. For the past six concerts, including the one that will take place this month, we’ve rotated among Bedford County’s three public high schools, all of which now have fine band programs. This year, it’s Shelbyville Central High School’s turn. During the first half of the program, the Nashville Symphony plays, and then – just before intermission – the high school band gets to perform a few selections.

After intermission, the symphony plays some more, and then – for the big grand finale – the symphony and the high school band play together on two or three selections, always ending with “The Stars and Stripes Forever.” Traditionally, the piccolo player from the high school band gets to take the solo.

The whole evening is intended to be casual and family-friendly. It takes place inside Calsonic Arena, on the Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration grounds, but it has the feel of an outdoor concert. There’s an art show on the arena concourse, with everything from professional paintings and sculpture to crayon drawings by elementary school kids. The Motlow State Community College jazz band performs an hour before the concert proper. Last year, we added the Nashville Symphony’s “instrument petting zoo,” and I deeply regret that Scott was never able to see this, because he’d have been thrilled by it. Trained volunteers are stationed at tables with real symphonic instruments, and kids (or adults, for that matter) are able to pick them up, see how they work, and try them out. I dare you to watch this and not smile. Two years ago, we planned to have the petting zoo, but the Nashville floods – just a week before the concert! – destroyed the instruments used for the program. Last year, we had hoped to have things set up outside the arena, but the threat of rain forced us to use a meeting room inside. This year, we’re hoping for our original plan of having the tables set up outside, so that parents and kids will see the instruments as they arrive and get to try them on their way into the building.

We’ve had some wonderful symphony conductors in the history of the Shelbyville concert, including Karen Lynne Deal and Byung-Hyun Rhee. For five of the past six concerts, however, we’ve been thrilled to have Albert-George Schram, who normally conducts the Nashville Symphony’s pops concerts in Nashville. (I think it’s a mark of the symphony’s special affection for this concert that we get Maestro Schram, who doesn’t do most of the other community concerts.) Maestro Schram, a native of the Netherlands, is funny and accessible, which is really important for a setting where there are a lot of kids and adults in the audience attending their first-ever symphony concert.  I love getting to Calsonic Arena on the afternoon of the concert early enough to watch him rehearse with the high school band. That’s the first time the kids get to rehearse under Maestro Schram’s direction – and they don’t actually get to rehearse with the symphony at all. The actual tandem performance is the first time they get to play together with the symphony.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble this much. I guess you can tell how much I love this concert, and how proud I am to have played even a small part in its history and development. As I approach a round-number birthday next week, there are aspects of my life in which I’m disappointed and for which I blame myself. This is not one of them.

Anyway, if you’re within driving distance of Shelbyville and would like to see the show, we’d love to have you. We always have a good crowd, but due to the arena’s generous seating capacity we always have tickets at the door. (I take that back – last year or the previous year we ran out of physical tickets, but we’ve never run out of actual seats.)

Two years ago, I had little real conception of what the American Cancer Society Relay For Life was all about. Some years earlier, when our local Relay was much, much smaller than it is today, I went out and took a photo of the survivor lap for the newspaper. I didn’t stick around.

People are so familiar with the idea of a fund-raising walk or run that some people — and I guess I was one of them — tune out Relay if they know they’re not going to be an officially-registered participant. But Relay, as I discovered last year, depends on visitors to make it work. If the only people who show up for our Relay For Life on June 1 are the registered walkers, our Relay will be a huge disappointment. Instead of thinking of the Relay as a walk, you need to think of it as a festival. The Relay’s slogan is “Celebrate. Remember. Fight back,” and that’s a perfect description of what the event is really all about and why you need to stop by and pay a visit when it happens in your community.

For one thing, the Relay teams are not just walking. Each team has a base of operations called a campsite, and most of the campsites also function as concession stands — selling food, or wristbands, or face-painting, or a bouncy house, or what have you. A Relay event is a great place to bring the kids, and they’ll have a tremendous time.

There are also the various traditional moments and ceremonies during the Relay. I’ve already mentioned the survivor lap; the first lap of the event is made by cancer survivors, so that we can cheer them on. Later in the evening comes the luminaria ceremony. Luminaria — paper bags, each with a candle inside — are a trademark of the Relay. You may have seen the TV commercial featuring the luminaria.

You can buy a luminaria and write someone’s name on it to honor or remember them. There are also torches (although I don’t think you can buy them the night of the event, because the plaques are engraved) and sky lanterns. Sky lanterns will be a new addition to Shelbyville’s event this year. They’re a cross between a luminaria and a hot air balloon.

During the luminaria ceremony, all of the lights in the area are turned off and the arena is lit only by the luminaria, torches and sky lanterns. There’s a special recitation in honor of those who have battled cancer. The sky lanterns will be released into the sky. It’s the type of moment that is not easily forgotten.

In the wee hours of the morning, of course, most of the casual public visitors go home. But the activity goes on. There’s a huge game of musical chairs, with 100 or more participants; various picnic-style games and what have you.

Different Relay events have different schedules, but they always run overnight. It’s meant to symbolize the passage of cancer patients through darkness and struggle — into the triumph of remission or, as in my Mom’s case, at least a relief from pain and a release to one’s eternal reward.

This year, since Bedford County has switched from a 12-hour format to an 18-hour format, there will be a new opportunity for the public to come out and celebrate with us on Saturday morning. Some of the teams which sell dinner food on Friday will offer breakfast food on Saturday. We’re talking to a local radio station about a live remote.

Last year, in the wake of my mother’s death, Phillip Oliver’s death, and Vickie Hull’s survival of breast cancer, Vickie decided that First United Methodist Church needed a Relay For Life team. I happily signed up, grateful for some constructive response to make to what had been a devastating loss for our family. By the end of our 2011 Relay, I was hooked, and I remember thinking to myself that Relay was going to be a permanent part of my life. Little did I know that just a few months later, Samantha Chamblee and Harriet Stewart would come to see me at the paper and ask me to join the local Relay committee.

Please go to http://relayforlife.org and find the Relay event in your area. If you’re here in Bedford County, just go straight to http://relayforlife.org/bedfordtn. Put the Relay on your calendar, even if you’re not affiliated with a team or participant. Stop by and help us celebrate our survivors and the progress that has been made; remember those we’ve lost; and fight back against this devastating class of diseases.

The American Cancer Society calls itself “The official sponsor of birthdays,” and a gift to ACS may help give someone else the birthdays Mom didn’t get to have.

You may make such a gift here.