Today six decades ago, we celebrated my dad’s last birthday together. That was probably the last family celebration. He passed 2 months later. I wish I could remember that birthday day and even the good times before that well, but I don’t. I so want to remember a good day, but all I have is very vivid images of his passing and the time after.

It became a sad day after his passing. I could see it was painful for my mom each and every year after that. Truth be told I think it was painful for her every day.

I felt very awkward for a few years after this. Friendships changed, till they resumed a new normal. To this day I’m not sure how it affected my sister except for the fact that she seemed deeply troubled but it but didn’t express it. I guess in a way all of us never did.

But as I sat here, I thought of all the celebrations I’ve been to for my wife’s father who I loved very much. I saw his sons and daughters love expressed into his 90s on his birthday. The pride and love exchanged each time were special to watch. The stories told, and the history shared.

The ribbing about certain tendencies or family times together. His pride at being the head of the family. His love for the grandchildren. The smile on his face blowing out candles.

I had some great celebrations with my mom but those were usually either just me or later my family and her. But it was incomplete because her life partner was missing and so was my sister a lot because of timing and work. Having that family unit is a special thing that a lot of people take for granted.

I can’t remember this on my side, and it bothers me. Even though my mom did everything in her power to make our family life normal.

I would say I miss you dad, but it would be more accurate to say I’ve missed you for a long-time dad, I love you.