Happy Birthday, Dad!!

Dad’s 83 today. Eighty-three. LXXXIII. No matter how it’s written, it’s still old. Old. Damn!! The years seem to pass so quickly now. I’m sure they pass more quickly for Dad than for me. In his memoirs, As I Recall, Dad wrote, “Life is like a roll of toilet paper: The nearer the end, the faster it goes!” It’s true isn’t it?

Was it really fifty-six years ago that he married Mum? Was it fifty-five years ago that he held his first child? Forty-three years since his last? Has it been twenty-five years since his retirement?

He’s eighty-three years old. That’s eighty-three summers. Eighty-three winters. Eighty-three Christmases.

As I write this, I’m filled with emotion. A lump in my throat. And tears. I wish I could stop time and call an end to these wretched birthdays. I wish I could keep my dad with me forever. But I know one sad day, I’ll get a phone call informing me that he’s gone. Gone. And I can’t bear the thought of living out the rest of my Life without him. Without his counsel, his wisdom, and without feeling his gentleness and his constant Love.

But I’ll be alright. Without him, I mean. Do you know why, Ms. J? I’ll be alright (we’ll all be alright) without him because he’s spent half a century showing us that we’re loved. He’s demonstrated in myriad ways that each of his six children is special to him in our own way and he’s taught us, through patience and kindness, that the world is essentially a good and safe place. Thank you so much for that, Dad.

Yes. I’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine. But oh Lord, how I’ll miss him!

I love you, Dad. I wish you continued health. I wish you happiness. I wish you Love.

Happy Birthday.