I’m still trying to wrap my head around what happened at my dad’s 78th birthday party. When I imagined celebrating this milestone with him, I pictured a nice dinner, a heartfelt toast, maybe a classic cake with candles. Instead, my dad showed up dressed as a full-blown wizard—robe, glasses, wand, the whole deal.
At first, I thought he was joking, but then I saw the house. Floating candles, themed snacks, a makeshift Great Hall setup, and even a Sorting Hat quiz before we ate. My dad, a man nearing 80, had gone all out for a Harry Potter-themed birthday party.
When I asked him why, he grinned like a kid and said, “Because I never got my Hogwarts letter, but I can still celebrate like I did!”
I didn’t know how to respond. On one hand, I admired his enthusiasm. It’s rare to see someone his age having this much fun. But on the other hand, I couldn’t shake the thought—shouldn’t he be acting his age?
I always believed that certain things should stay in childhood. Dressing up as a wizard and throwing a themed party felt a little… off for a 78-year-old. Was this harmless fun, or was my dad refusing to accept his age?
I watched as he waved his wand around, laughing with his grandkids, casting “spells,” and reenacting scenes from the movies. I expected my relatives to feel the same as I did, but instead, they were completely into it. My nieces and nephews were thrilled, my siblings were laughing, and even my mom—who usually rolls her eyes at his antics—was wearing a Gryffindor scarf and helping serve “Butterbeer.”
Maybe I was the only one taking this too seriously.
The more I watched, the more I realized—what’s the harm in letting people enjoy what they love? My dad had spent his entire life working, raising a family, being responsible. If he wanted to have fun and celebrate in a way that made him happy, did it really matter if it wasn’t what I expected?
Maybe there’s no such thing as “acting your age.” Maybe happiness isn’t about fitting into a mold of what society says a 78-year-old should do.
By the end of the party, I wasn’t as annoyed anymore. My dad was happy. His grandkids were happy. Everyone had fun. And in the grand scheme of things, isn’t that what truly matters?
Maybe next year, I’ll show up dressed as Dumbledore.