So on Sunday, it would be my Dad’s 79th birthday.
That means he has been gone 19 years.
NINETEEN.
That blows my mind because in some ways, it only feels like a couple of years since he died.
Obviously I wish he was still here.
Healthy.
Happy.
With Mum by his side.
And if he was, I would be sending them tickets to come to America.
To see their only son.
Their daughter in law.
The beloved grandson.
And we would sit in our back-garden in the evening sun and talk while we looked at Otis running around, doing his ‘missions’.
And at some point, I would stop and look at them all interacting … conscious of how special this moment was, trying to take it all in.
Dad’s kind eyes.
Mum’s beautiful face.
My wife’s happy smile.
My son’s infectious joy.
With a backdrop of laughter and love … all mingling together in a way that made it absolutely perfect.
A perfect I’d want to remember forever because in some ways, it would be everything I had ever wished for and wanted.
Happy birthday for Sunday my dear Dad.
Not a day goes by without me thinking of you.
Rxxx
