Yesterday, I made a conscious effort to focus on the joyous birth 4 years ago of my littlest man. He shares that very same date with his Grandpa, but in a circle of life kind of way. You see as *I* was taking his first breaths on that June morning, my dad was taking his last few labored breaths. My father died of lung cancer just a couple of hours after *I* was born.
It was a roller coaster sort of day; up and down and all around, a whirlwind of emotions difficult to process. I needed to talk about my dad, but none of my visitors (and I was blessed with many visitors) wanted to talk about anything but the precious baby boy they took turns holding.
One of the things that meant the most to me was a card I received from my dear, sweet and totally rockin' friend S's mom. I don't remember what it said exactly, but it was filled with kind words and prayer that touched my heart. It was like a gentle hug came in that envelope. That card is packed away with all of *I*'s other cards. They are linked together. *I* is the only son who did not meet my dad, but they have a special, deep bond and I know that Dad is smiling down from Heaven and getting a good chuckle watching this mischievous boy with the infectious smile.
Yesterday, I only wrote about my Birthday Boy. Today, I will tell you that my Dad was not forgotten amid the streamers and cake. He was honored. He would have wanted us to be celebrating and laughing; enjoying the kids because I know everything he did he did for his children.
Thank you, Dad for all the times you drove me around, letting me blast the music without comment or complaint. Thank you for never uttering a hurtful word to me. Thank you for supporting me even when you didn't understand. Thank you, Dad, for being you.