My father is about to turn 80, and his most fervent wish was that we would celebrate the occasion not with a formal dinner in a fancy restaurant, nor with a trip to some exotic locale. And as far as I know, my dad was not interested in his children pooling their resources in order to buy him some lavish gift. What my dad most wanted was for the family to be together – no small matter, given the hectic pace of our respective lives and the geographic distance between us. And beyond just getting together, it was really important to my dad that we would present a program of music and stories – once in Decorah, Iowa (our former home, where Randi and her family now live) and then again in Madison, where Dad and Sonja are. . . with a reception to follow each program. It was an echo of his 75th birthday celebration, except that in that case we only did the program in Madison. This time around we would be double the fun/challenge. It sounded like a complicated way to celebrate his birthday, and a couple of us wondered if it would turn out to be an unpleasantly hectic weekend. But when you have 80 candles burning on your birthday cake, you really do deserve to receive your fondest wish (unless you’re wishing for the Crown Jewels.) So we plowed ahead, bracing for the worst but hoping for the best.
And the best is what we got. It turned out to be a fun and inspiring weekend, and it was probably for the best that we weren’t just sitting on sofas, smiling at each other, but also working together to make everything as nice as it could be. And maybe on some level, my dad knew that this is the kind of weekend that would turn out to be most meaningful for us and most interesting.
Kathy and I actually drove as far as Dodgeville Wednesday night, so we could arrive at Decorah fairly early on Thursday without killing ourselves. And I’m so glad we did that because we ended up being the first guests to arrive at Randi and Matt’s home and had such a lovely time, just the four of us. . . which almost never happens anymore. And their house in the country is incredibly beautiful, and it was even easier to appreciate its beauty with no one else around. Of course, everyone else arrived soon enough- Dad & Sonja & Nathan from Madison and eventually Steve, Scott & Henry- who flew from Philadelphia to Minneapolis to meet up with dear friends Willy and Guy. . . who came with them to Decorah and Madison for the weekend. (And in retrospect, how strange the weekend would have been without them!) We sat down to a spectacular meal together Thursday night (Randi made butter chicken from scratch) and then did some preliminary practicing for Friday night’s program, sorting out who should sing what and how we could make it all flow. And in those minutes that we were singing together in Matt and Randi’s living room, it felt like all was right with the world. . . despite the distressing news out of New York City earlier that day about the shooting at the Empire State Building. Something as simple as singing together felt so good and so soothing.
Friday included some preparations for the reception that night (Kathy and I volunteered to provide the fruit, which meant a trip to the store and then some time in Good Shepherd’s kitchen slicing watermelon, cleaning straw- berries and arranging grapes.) – plus a fun little shopping expedition that afternoon…. not to anyplace fancy but to the Sattre Store, an incredibly remote country store filled floor to ceiling with antiques, groceries, and every strange nicknack you can imagine. Eventually we made our way to Good Shepherd, had one more rehearsal, and then feasted on Mabe’s Pizza to get ourselves in an even better mood for that night’s program. We were touched that about 40 people came- most of them familiar to us from our time in Decorah. . . including my best friend Marshall Anderson and his folks – and two luminaries from Luther College’s music department, Weston Noble and David Judisch. We were also very happy to see two members of the Martinson family, Lisa and Patsy. If there was ever a family who loved to sing together, it was the Martinsons- and Emil and Jeanette were among the dearest friends that my mom and dad ever had. It was so special to have them there, especially for those moments when Randi was singing were her two daughters or when my brother Nathan joined with nephews Kaj and Henry in “Fisherman Peter,” a song that the Bergs and Martinsons performed together many years ago.
On Saturday, we headed to Madison to help prepare for Sunday’s celebration – but not before doing some shopping in downtown Decorah. One place we visited was the new art gallery of Doug Eckhart, a recently retired art professor at Luther who was also one of the college’s football coaches. (You don’t see that combination every day!) In defiance of dad’s “no gifts” request, Doug gave my dad a lovely print of Dunning’s Springs, one of the prettiest spots in or around Decorah. I took one look at it and knew that it would look perfect in our new downstairs color scheme, and Kathy agreed, so we stopped by the gallery and bought a framed copy of the same print. It will be nice to have a little bit of Decorah up on our walls- and now that Kathy has been to Decorah a few times and come to appreciate its beauty, she doesn’t mind either. Eventually, we all hit the road together- except for Dad and Sonja, who got a much earlier start- and made our way to Madison, with a quick stop a few miles outside of Dodgeville in front of a sign that said BERG RD. for a little photo op. (That was my crazy idea.) Once we arrived in Madison we got to work shucking corn, setting up tables, and all of the other preliminary stuff that needed to be done- and rewarded ourselves with a delicious dinner of Mongolian Bar-B-Q at Hu Hot.
And then came Sunday. . . with a church service at Advent Lutheran that featured my “O the Joy” liturgy and my dad as preacher. His sermon explored the theme of Dancing, which one can mean very literally or more symbolically as whatever it is that allows us to let go of our inhibitions and express our gifts and our inner selves most freely and boldly. He also talked about the importance of retaining our love of the dance- whatever that might mean for us- to the age of 80 and beyond. It was a neat service, and the program that followed featured a really touching moment when one of dad’s best friends in Madison stood up at one point to offer heartfelt words of gratitude for all that my dad has done and continues to do in that community. It was nothing any of us were expecting- my dad least of all- and that’s probably what made it so deeply moving. After the program came the delicious meal that dad and Sonja had planned – pulled pork sandwiches, corn on the cob, etc. – which was in effect an indoor picnic and really fun. Actually, the hardest part was getting Sonja to actually sit down and eat. “Have you eaten, Sonja?” we kept asking. “I have a plate,” she would reply as she ran off to take care of something else – but that didn’t mean she had sat down and eaten a single bite. We thought we might have to wrestle her to the floor, but she finally did sit down and partake of the delicious meal she had worked so hard to organize and prepare.
In my dad’s closing remarks, he went out of his way to say that anything he has accomplished in his life was only possible because of the extraordinary people who have surrounded him over the years. . . his wonderful parents and his brother Paul, amazing teachers and schoolmates, dear friends and colleagues, two extraordinary women to whom he’s been married, four kids, multiple grandchildren, other beloved relatives, countless parishoners . . . the list goes on and on. He even dared to be a tiny bit political at one point, saying that he fully agreed with President Obama’s blunt statement to small business owners that They Hadn’t Built Anything. The president may have been a little reckless or careless with his rhetoric, but what he was trying to say is that there are so many things that have to be in place (especially infrastructure) for a business to succeed. None of us does anything by ourselves, and none of us deserve all of the credit for anything we accomplish, even if it’s our name emblazoned on the sign out front.
Maybe that’s why my dad wanted his 80th birthday to be celebrated with programs that featured the whole family. There was room in his spotlight for all of us, and someday when we’re summarizing his entire life and ministry, that will likely be the headline. Spotlights are actually very cold places when you stand in them all by yourself. But when you’re surrounded by friends and family, they are so much warmer and lovelier.
pictured above: left to right- Guy, Scott, Henry, Kaj, Matt, Nathan, Aidan, and dad, during our program in Madison.