happy 66th birthday dad

Today I brewed a cup to celebrate my dad in my birthday mug.  (remember this post?)  I wasn't going to smile.  But then this just happened out of nowhere:

I couldn't help it.  A smile appeared just as those tears slid down my cheeks and dripped off my chin.  He would have thought that was funny.  I mean whipped cream hair?  How does one not laugh at that.  More importantly he would want me to smile.

There are some days when I miss him more, and today is just one of those days.  I think it always will be.  I feel a sadness that is so consuming it feels as if someone were sitting on my chest and I can't breathe.  

But...I allow myself to truly feel this overwhelming sadness, and what comes next is an overwhelming joy.  I go through an old box of things that are mine, that my dad saved.  Things that I gave him. Like this card.  There are Hallmark stickers on it dated 1983, I was 6.  

A book I gave him titled "Why a Daughter Needs a Dad" and written in the cover:

(And one of my  favorite reasons:

"A daughter needs a dad so she will know what it is like to be somebody's favorite.")

And of course, there are photos.

One of our first.  My dad, age 30, so handsome.

Here he is happily making the world's best pancakes.

Teaching me to fish at the lake.

Here he is playing in the snow with his dad.  It just seems so fitting this time of year.

And now it's time to raise your mug, whatever it be, and whatever be inside:

we send up a toast

to a life well spent

to memories we cherish

until we meet again 

we miss you

we love you  

happy birthday dad!