What is it about missing the party that is so unpleasant? I was recently invited to my grandson’s birthday party, which would include a boat ride on the lake near my home; I was looking forward to seeing him enjoy being out on the lake. The day before the party, it was suggested that I come by afterwards to watch him open his gifts, because there would be fishing.  It is true, I am not someone you want on a fishing trip–I tend to plead for the fish; I do not think using animals for fun is a good way to spend the day.  But the boys don’t fish, nor does my son.  If there is only one holiday I could attend, my choice would have been the birthday of my grandson. But I realize it is only one small price to pay, compared to the suffering of all the fish and other earthlings, so I missed the party.

I later learned it was a conjoint birthday party, including the birthday of the fishing grandpa.  The boat ride lasted an exceptionally long time, and the returning mariners ended up needing to have dinner about 7 pm.  There was nothing for me, so it was suggested I come over when they were done, about 8:30 pm.  By then, having been up since about 4:30 am, and not feeling terribly welcome, I decided to wait until the next day to give my grandson his gifts. It had been a long day and I did not yet know that it was a conjoint gathering. Had I known, I would have come by to pay my respects to the adults who were celebrating, but I did not yet know. And fourth birthdays have special significance in our family, so at the time, it was a disappointment.

The next day the little one came over with his brother and his father and opened up his gifts.  I had a treasure map to find the pirate ship I purchased for him; he had to search through clues in a half dozen different places to find his gifts.  He and his older brother had a great time.  He said something to me about fishing; I didn’t realize his grandfather would be bringing a little fishing pole for him.  He mentioned that the fish had something red in his mouth.  I asked if it was blood; he said it was a tongue or something, he wasn’t sure, but he made a face.  He didn’t like fishing; he asked me if I liked fishies. I said yes, I like them alive and swimming around and being free. End of conversation and on to playing with his new gifts.

My grandson will have to decide for himself how he feels about bugs and fish and other creatures.  He shows great empathy around me but is adaptable to his circumstances.  I asked my son to please have a birthday for him that did not include harming any animals, but I did not sense much support; at times I think my beliefs about compassion offend the entire world.  I know that missing family gatherings because of vegan values is a common occurrence, but it is painful nonetheless. I think it is indicative of how frequently animals pay the price for human desires, because I know how frequently I am not included in things in life. I try to find ways to participate, to not leave my son in an awkward position because of my beliefs, without compromising my own values. I can only hope there will be more vegans by the time my little grandson grows up – he loves anything vegan, even me. I hope there will be a world left for him to grow into, a kinder world, where other people, other animals are respected and treated with kindness.  Meanwhile, I will miss the party if it includes harming other individuals, be they finned, feathered, or furred. It is a small price to pay to respect my fellow inhabitants.