Today is my Dad's birthday. The day feels uncomfortable because I'm still not sure how I am supposed to act or think. If my Dad were still living, he would be probably be in Texas with his wife. I would call and text him to wish him a Happy Birthday but that is typically as far as the celebration extended. Logically I don't think I should miss my Dad any more or any less today because I wouldn't traditionally be spending a lot of time with him to celebrate his birthday. Yet the fact that I can't call him on his special day, even if it was usually only a short conversation, reminds me of his absence.
I've tried to fight the emotions, but it is probably healthier if I just surrender to the fact that I miss my Dad today. I wish that I could call him and sing Happy Birthday. I wish that I could text him photos of the boys so that he could see their adventures as they grow and learn. I wish that I could talk to him about my professional crossroads and seek his guidance. I wish I could hear him laugh one more time. Today my wishes are hurting more than normal, and I blame it on the date on the calendar.
I'm going to do my best to stay busy. I really don't want to break down in front of Timmy, and I don't know that crying will help me feel better. Grief wafts and wanes, and today hurts a little more than normal. I have learned that today I just need to hold on and ride the wave of emotions.
It has become a tradition for our little family to eat at Chili's on my Dad's birthday. He frequently took Robby there when he lived in the area, and he developed a strong association between Candy Papaw and the restaurant. When Scott comes home from work we will go out to eat, share stories about my Dad and toast to a life well lived and deeply missed.