Posthumous Happy Birthday

Hey dad, March 20^th  (tomorrow)  would have been your 91^st birthday but you passed just seven months shy of that mark.  I still miss you every day.  I know we were not close when I was a kid, but thankfully we mended things while I was still in my twenties so now, just past sixty, I can be grateful for sewing on those patches which allowed us to have all the fun, fights and love that go into a healthy father/daughter relationship.  I’m posting this today so I don’t forget, something that has been happening a lot lately.

The end wasn’t easy for you in terms of your heath, and sadly, you felt much of the physical pain that I am familiar with though for a different reason.  You often blamed yourself for my genetic disorder though no one in our family had it prior to me so no blame was necessary and never would have been at any rate.   A posthumous happy birthday to you dear dad, in whatever realm to which your spirit has carried you.  Knowing you are now pain free is enough for me to be grateful and I will be eating copious amounts of chocolate to celebrate the occasion.  Hope you get something sweet though that date probably means nothing to your soul.  But what do I know.  If there is chocolate, eat some for me.  70% or higher, please!!

I have been in and out of the hospital of late but am doing better now.  Jeff and Tami have been a great help to me physically and emotionally.  And because of your generosity, I have a food service that delivers meals once a week.  They are healthy and yummy and I am gaining back some of the weight I lost after some surgery in January.  I gained it for the surgery knowing I’d lose it so now I’m getting back to where I was.   I’m going to sell my car and that’s hard but hey, I haven’t driven for eight or nine months at least.  I was fooling myself thinking I could drive again.  I was actually hoping to have the surgery before you passed, thinking I might be able to drive again afterward. But I recently had a dream where I was driving, wondering what I was doing behind the wheel.  So I guess it’s the timing was right.  I also have more help coming in.

Accepting my situation has been a challenge.  When I surrender, I’m relatively okay.  But the “woulda, shoulda, coulda” song keeps running through my brain and I have to stop it before my anxiety goes berserk.   I just try and watch my hummingbirds, the eagles on the web cam, and movies.  I read, write and visit with friends.  And I think of you, mom, Ida, Ruth, Esther, Rose, Bunny and all the other strong women/men who were in my life on Earth and continue to be in my life…wherever you/they are.  I feel you all and when I close my eyes, I see.  I don’t want to take you away from what you are doing now; just know I feel you with me.   All. The. Time.