Today would have been my dad’s 66th Birthday. Normally on his birthday, I’m actually ok. Good even. This year for some reason, I’m not. I miss him so much and I just wish more than anything that I could be celebrating his birthday with him physically present then in spirit like I have been doing the past 11 years.
Grief is a funny thing. It’s like the ocean as it rushes in and recedes out, sometimes rather unexpectedly. Sometimes I feel like because so many years have passed, I shouldn’t feel my sadness so strongly or sharply anymore. But is that true? I shouldn’t try and push away these feelings of sadness because they are uncomfortable or because some people arbitrarily decide that grieving should last a certain amount of time. I should embrace them and own them.
I am sad because he was such an amazing person and I was so lucky to have had as much time with him as I did. I’m having a hard time seeing that recently, and especially today. Sadness isn’t something to shove under a rug. It’s there and it’s real.
Although I’m just feeling a lot of pain today, I will try and take this opportunity to remember and honour him. If he were still here, I think he would have flown from Canada to California to visit (he preferred visiting warm spots during the winter). We’d have got up quite early this morning to go golfing. I would be terrible and he would be enjoying the challenge of a new course. We’d go out to a fancy supper and enjoy some homemade cupcakes.
Although I don’t get to spend the day as I’d like, I’ll still celebrate his life – birthdays were always a fabulous occasion at our house. I’ll go out for lunch and enjoy a cupcake.
Happy Birthday Dad.