Today is my father’s 78th birthday. I am forever writing about my father and the sadness that’s taken up residence since the cancer came. He died when he was 66. Today he would be 78. Today, we’re celebrating his birthday.
I look at this photo, the one I scanned for this post, many times every day. I don’t know where we were when the photo was taken. I never even saw it while he was living, but rather it took my breath from me as I sat on my sister’s couch a couple of years after he died. That smile! That is a picture of us.
I love that picture. I am not seeing the sickness that accompanied us as he walked me down the aisle. I am not feeling the stress of crossing state lines nearly every weekend. I am not forcing a smile as I greet the nurses. I am not hiding the horror at seeing the bruises from botched treatments. I am not hearing his last labored breathes.
I love that picture. I look at it and I am walking through the door of my parent’s house. I am feeling his arms around me in a crushing hug. I am rolling my eyes at his lame joke. I am laughing aloud watching him play- really play- with my niece. I’m opening a card he once sent me at college. I still have that card.
And today. Today is my father’s birthday. I am so sad from missing him. So sad that he did not know my Punks. But today, I am trying to feel that and let it pass through. I am celebrating my father’s birthday with my kids. We’ll bake a cake. We’ll sing a song. We’ll tell a story. We’ll show a picture. Maybe that’s kind of weird.
I’ll cry. I’m crying now, but it’s not entirely in grief. That’s ok with me. My kids know why I’m sad. And I want them to know that happiness and sadness actually can co-exist. I want them to know why I am happy- why I want to celebrate. Perfect he wasn’t. But funny, proud, compassionate, and caring he was.
And he never, ever walked by a Salvation Army bell-ringer without making a donation. Neither do I. Neither, I hope, will they.
by Megin Hatch
Photo provided by the author via a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved.
6 responses so far ↓
Amy Secord // Dec 5, 2008 at 6:25 am
I know your dad would have love to see the Punks! He would have loved to see you as a mother, and I believe that he would have been very proud. Celebrate his day! Cry and Laugh at his sense of humor but most of all remember him.
Kelly Damron // Dec 5, 2008 at 11:16 am
What a wonderful way to celebrate life. I need to remember this!
The other day my girls and I walked by a Salvation bell-ringer and all 3 of us put money in the jar. Later they asked, “Mom, why did we give money to that lady?” And I responded with, “Because it is the right thing to do.” Now whenever they see a jar at a store, they want to put money in it. It’s a small lesson, but one I hope they carry with them forever.
InTheFastLane // Dec 5, 2008 at 11:32 am
And I am sure that your dad would be so proud to see you celebrating and sharing his life with others.
Ron // Dec 6, 2008 at 2:37 pm
This blog shows that no matter how imperfect life is, no matter how cruel life can be, that we can still bring our children up correctly. Your Dad did well with you, and you are doing well with your kids, and so the chain continues. Celebrating a loved one in your life is sorta like having Valentine’s Day everyday… Something that I know happens in your house daily. And this blog proves it.
Your Dad has probably always been proud of the family, and when he did pass on, I bet he already knew you would be a good mother. Dads know these things.
Thimbelle // Dec 7, 2008 at 4:32 pm
It is so hard without Dad - I lost mine four years before Twinks was born, and to this day I wish he could be here with us to see Twinks grow up.
I am glad to know that I am not the only person who has made it a point for my child to “know” her Grandpa, even though he isn’t here. I truly believe it is important for our children to know about these people who helped shape their parents - and who contributed to their gene pool!
I also think it is OK for them to see our sadness at their absence. It is a genuine human emotion, and Twinks has learned that grief must be expressed, just as happiness and joy are.
Happy Birthday to your Dad. I’m sure he knows how much you love and miss him.
Megin Hatch // Dec 7, 2008 at 7:48 pm
You’re all very kind. Thank you for taking the time to let me know you were here and sharing your thoughts.
The kids have been asking me to repeat all of the stories over and over again.
And the bell ringers are out in full force!
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