Happy Birthday, Dad!

hey Dad:
It's your birthday, and you're not here to celebrate with us.  I drove Mom out to the cemetery today so she could have a few moments with you  - but then you already know that, don't you.  We brought you roses from Mom's garden, one beautiful flower from each bush.  I wanted to leave you a beer, but I wasn't sure what the policy was there, so I didn't.  Next time, I will, policies be damned!

I read where there is a Memorial Day service out there, and I'm sure it will be beautiful, but I won't be able to be here for that.  (work duties, as that is inventory week - which for me will be Hell Week, but that's the norm).

It isn't the same being here knowing you won't walk down the hall after your shower; you aren't here to help cheer on the Giants (they won in extra innings last night, and lost 0-1 tonight.  Timmy pitched a great game!)  Mom seems to be doing OK most of the time, but I worry that she doesn't get out and do enough.  We both know that she's a young enough age to be doing things, and she should get out more often.  Would be easier if I lived closer, I'm sure!

I know you and Uncle Jim are kickin' it up there, and having long conversations.  But take a few to keep an eye on Triston.  I think he's having a hard time with all the changes he's had in the past year, and without a little guidance, he might get on the wrong path.   I'm sure you greeted your sis, Arlene, this past week.  And today, Wanda joined ya'll up there too.

All of us think of you often, and recall the good stuff as often as possible.  The hardest times are when we need a piece of advice, or your opinion on some kind of fix-it-up project.  But you taught us well, and we'll figure things out on our own now.

Love you always, Dad.
Happy Birthday!