80 Years Young

Interrupting regularly scheduled blog programming to celebrate the first man I ever loved.

The one who will always have my heart.

My father.

He turns 80 today.

And honestly, it makes me rather emotional.

The thought of your parents getting older is always there but days like this make you realize how fleeting time really is.

How the memories you make along the way are really the ties that bind.

And what a live well-lived is all about.

Today, my dad doesn't do many of the things he used to do but that doesn't mean he never did them.

I often speak of how my mother and he would go out for dinner on Saturday nights - listening to live music, dancing. 

Or how they often had a house full of people for this or that occasion.

At Christmas, my mother always liked to have one "stranger" celebrating along side us - someone who wasn't part of our immediate family.

And they, often led my amazingly talented father, would sing well into the night. 

Ask anyone who knows him and they will tell you that my father is the kindest, most helpful, jovial person around.

He is well-liked by young and old alike.

His just-married neighbours never realized just how much they lucked out.

But really, I am the luckiest one of all.

I get to call him my dad.

And today, he is 80 years young.

I love you daddy.

thanks for the c-plus. thanks for the drives to Dairy Queen. thanks for my special drawer in the kitchen. thanks for every Star Wars movie. thanks for understanding when I didn't want to eat that. thanks for buying me bolognese on the beach. thanks for being my mechanic and my chaffeur. 

thanks for how well you love my children. 

and most especially, thank you for being the father every other father only hopes to be.

Today, we celebrate you.

xo