Trish St.Hill

I have always said that my main love is not as a writer, but rather as a storyteller. It is my most effective form of communication. So please indulge me to tell this simple tale of love. Last night was a special night for our family, a night filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories. We got to celebrate our oldest sibling’s 70th birthday, a remarkable milestone that reflects a lifetime of experiences and wisdom. My brother Len had a birthday to remember, one that showcased how deeply he is loved and appreciated by his family. His wife and children went to extraordinary lengths to put on an epic event for his 70th, leaving no detail overlooked, ensuring that everything was perfect. His daughters, Maurica and Dia, along with his wife Sylvina, did a phenomenal job decorating the space. The vibrant colors and thoughtful touches created an atmosphere of joy, while the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen hinted at some of the most scrumptious foods we could anticipate. Each dish was a labor of love, crafted with care and creativity, showcasing their culinary talents.
My brother Junie and I had the crucial task of picking him up early for breakfast, a delightful opportunity to spend some quality time with him. The event was a surprise, so our job was to keep him occupied while the preparations were in full swing. It was heartwarming to share stories and laughter, reminiscing about the past and discussing what the future holds for him. Through careful coordination, we arrived at the event to a waiting crowd, their faces echoing waves of nostalgia and excitement as they eagerly anticipated his arrival. The music was beautiful, selecting his favorite tunes that transported us back in time, and the ambiance was mesmerizing, enveloping us in a warm, familial embrace. But my favorite part of the evening was undoubtedly the tributes. Tears were flowing, each word spoken a testament to the impact he has had on our lives. I imagined our dear mother was fluttering overhead, smiling down on the gathering with pride as we celebrated not just his birthday, but the incredible man he has become.

As I stood looking at the event, I looked back at our days in Camden Park, St. Vincent and the Grenadines when our mother was running late from early morning shopping, how he would fill in by twisting me and my sister’s hair into hysterically looking pigtails, preparing us breakfast and taking us down the steep slope of Eddy Hill, before walking us up to Lowmans School. Before the age of 10, he could cook, clean, and wash like any adult, no doubt a weight put on him as the oldest child. But he did it with grace, always making us feel special and safe that he had our backs. So it was special to look back on the last 70 years of his life. But yesterday was special not only because he turned 70 years, marking a significant chapter in his life, but also because less than a year ago he faced a serious car accident that almost cost him his life. To see him return to good health and celebrating this milestone is a beautiful thing that fills our hearts with gratitude. Most people get those tributes only when they are dead and can’t hear them, but my big brother got his roses while he is alive and strong, surrounded by those who love him most.

As the patriarch of the family, he is special to us, a guiding light who has always been there in times of need. We truly appreciate his contributions to his family and us, his younger siblings, who look up to him with admiration. He is a man of few words packed with wisdom, a quiet strength that shepherds his flock with firm but loving hands. His presence grounds us, and his guidance helps us navigate life’s challenges. Happy birthday, big brother. We love and appreciate you more than words can express, and we look forward to creating many more beautiful memories together in the years to come.