July 18 was my father’s birthday. Were he still here, he would have been 88 today. I took a few moments this morning, to quietly commune with, and reflect about, him. I miss him, there’s no getting around that. He continues to ring my outdoor patio chimes, and he will live on, in my and my brothers’ memories.
Cleaning out my nightstand produced loads of pictures, many of them with my dad. Little snapshots in time: at camp when I was 10, various graduations, my wedding, he and my step-mom Lil with my children. It is almost incomprehensible that they are no longer here.
I do not want to get maudlin, and this is where a spiritual perspective is helpful. If they are somewhere out there, no matter how nebulous a concept that may be, then they aren’t fully gone.
With this in mind, accompanied by a strong dose of love, I wish my father a very happy 88th birthday!