It's the first of March and I have a very special birthday in mind today.
For some reason I've always felt weird about recognizing this birthday as the person hasn't been with us for over 22 years, however I imagine anyone who has a deceased parent they hold dear to their heart would feel the same as I do today.
I'm talking about my dad. Today is my dad's birthday. He would have been . . . well, let's just say the number is "up there."
I love that my dad was born on March 1st. I'm not sure why, but I just do. Maybe it's because a lot of my family members were born on holidays, and then there is my dad... randomly... on March 1st -- no where close to any sort of holiday (unless you count leap day, but it wasn't even leap year the year he was born so that really doesn't count... does it?!)
Anyhow, I will never apologize for my sentimental ways when it comes to my dad. He was special to me, and I love the fact that I embody so many of his qualities (even the not so great ones). I think it's especially fitting and special that this is the case because I was his only girl. I'm the girl he "didn't know how to raise" because "he only knew how to raise boys." Personally, I think he didn't do a half bad job raising me while he was around.
I will always think of my dad when I see "Wheel of Fortune" and "M*A*S*H". As I've been planning which Cubs games I'm going to attend at Wrigley Field this year, I've thought of my dad's stories about ditching school and going to Wrigley Field to watch a game, instead. Whenever I forget to turn off a light at home because I'm not in that room, I think of my dad and how he use to tell me that "we didn't own the Edison company and I needed to turn off the lights when I left a room" every time I left the light on in my bedroom. (As an adult I SO get why he said that and it explains A LOT about the way I control the lighting in my own home today.)
My dad taught me about having a solid work ethic and caring for your family. He was funny and made not only me, but many others smile. I've said this many times that he is the only person who knew how to make me disappear -- thankfully, he also knew how to make me reappear again, and wanted me to reappear.
Often I wish my dad could see me now, as an adult. I wonder if he would be proud of who I have become, and the life I have made for myself
While talking about my dad's upcoming birthday, and if it is normal to recognize it, with S the other day I got the idea to mark the occasion with cake in his honor. (She does the does this on her dad's birthday.) Since I love cupcakes, I got those instead of a normal cake. (Dad would have wanted me to have something I enjoyed.) Since he loved apple pie (just like I do), I bought two specialty cupcakes from a local cupcake shop -- Apple Cobbler and Carmel Apple. (I couldn't decide between the two, so I figured I'd get both... my dad would have wanted it that way.)
(I've only tried the Carmel Apple thus far (left). Simply put, "DELICIOUS"... is an understatement.)
As I've indulged in this treat, I've recalled the sweetness of my dad's life. I've thought of all the lives he touched outside of our "special" family unit. I've put in the back of my mind all the bad and ugly stuff I've learned about him over the years. (Don't get me wrong, I've wanted to learn these things as well, but today is not the day to remember them. Honestly, I don't think of them often when I think of my dad. I believe the important part about loving your family is that you unconditionally love -- good, bad, ugly. But, like I said, today I put that in farther in the back of my mind and just remember the good.) I've done what birthday's are all about -- celebrating ones life. And, as long as I'm around, my dad will not be forgotten. (Nor will his birthday.)
Thank you for allowing me to be sentimental today. It means a lot to me.