Today is what would have been my Dad’s 87th birthday. I’m so glad he’s not here in his shriveled up Alzheimer’s form. I do wish he was here as his 1999 63 year old self. I miss that version so much.
Last week our family celebrated life together in one of my Dad’s favorite places, Alberta, Canada. We had beautiful weather and even our 6 and 4 year old grandsons hiked the 4.6 mile, 1500 ft elevation trail. I was so proud of them and I know my Dad was too.
Dad took us there for the first time in June of 1999, and again in June of 2003. The sparkle in his eye every time he saw mountains or waterfalls was captivating. He would point out car windows and sunroofs just making sure everyone could see what he saw! “Don’t miss it!” He would yell. I’m not missing the mountains and the waterfalls Dad. I’m seeking them out wherever I am. I am missing you. Every. Single. Day.
Thank you Dad for the memories. I’m the luckiest of people that I got to be your daughter. Not because you were perfect and humble and a king as you claimed, but because you loved life and you wanted me to love it too. You loved your family and I was so privileged to be in it. I don’t know where you are, but I believe with every fiber of my being you are. Sometimes I still feel your presence and I can barely breathe for fear that I won’t feel it again. Thank you Daddy. I am trying to live boldly and joyfully.
I am singing as you would wish.
I love you Daddy. Happy 87th birthday.
I remember.
Seasons of the Soul 