I miss the birthday dinners at grandma’s house. She made the same chocolate sheet cake, the same pot roast and vegetables, and used the same white Corelle serving dishes every year for all our birthdays. I miss sending you Borders gift cards, which you spent on writing books, blank journals, and music DVDs. I miss calling you and telling you happy birthday and I love you. You would be 58 years old today, and still working and writing poetry and playing your guitar. You were too young to have a stroke, too young to leave this world, and I am too young to be living without a father. But life is not fair, I am happy that you are now at peace. Wherever you are, I hope you can hear me tell you one more time, “Happy birthday, Dad! I love you.”
No comments:
Post a Comment