Forever 58
Dear Dad,
This is the first time in my life that I've forgotten your birthday. I am sorry. When I realized it, my stomach clenched and I felt a sorrow for letting you slip away. I remember being the one to insist on doing something for you. Every year you would say the same thing "It's just another day, I don't need nuthin'." But I would come in singing and bearing gifts anyway. You pretended to be modest and humble but I could see the sparkle in your eye. It was a routine we got used to year after year. I would bring sentimentals and little necessities and then drag you out to dinner. You looked forward to it. I caught you smiling from time to time. Saying it was worth it was an understatement. I was always looking for ways to make you smile.
It's strange how the tiniest of things bring a flood of memories. Today I was reminded of you. I haven't bought a 2 liter of soda in many many years. I ended up with a bottle of coke in my fridge, leftover from a trip (We used it for Whiskey). I took it out for a glass this morning, I instinctively wanted to pour one for you. My apartment turned into your house, so much so that I expected to see you on my couch.
I took your driver's license out of my purse and looked at the birthdate, To see how old you are, but then I realized that you will be 58 forever.
There is no replacement for the hole in my heart. Nobody or nothing to take that place. Happy Holidays, I wish you were here. I love you.
This is the first time in my life that I've forgotten your birthday. I am sorry. When I realized it, my stomach clenched and I felt a sorrow for letting you slip away. I remember being the one to insist on doing something for you. Every year you would say the same thing "It's just another day, I don't need nuthin'." But I would come in singing and bearing gifts anyway. You pretended to be modest and humble but I could see the sparkle in your eye. It was a routine we got used to year after year. I would bring sentimentals and little necessities and then drag you out to dinner. You looked forward to it. I caught you smiling from time to time. Saying it was worth it was an understatement. I was always looking for ways to make you smile.
It's strange how the tiniest of things bring a flood of memories. Today I was reminded of you. I haven't bought a 2 liter of soda in many many years. I ended up with a bottle of coke in my fridge, leftover from a trip (We used it for Whiskey). I took it out for a glass this morning, I instinctively wanted to pour one for you. My apartment turned into your house, so much so that I expected to see you on my couch.
I took your driver's license out of my purse and looked at the birthdate, To see how old you are, but then I realized that you will be 58 forever.
There is no replacement for the hole in my heart. Nobody or nothing to take that place. Happy Holidays, I wish you were here. I love you.