Today would have been Dad’s 84th birthday. He’s not here to celebrate with us, so I thought today would be a good time to reflect on the last 3 months.
I went to have breakfast at his favorite restaurant. I ordered myself a cup of tea and a black coffee for Dad. I ate my corned beef hash through tears. I really wish that he was there to drink his coffee and complaint about the state of the world.
After breakfast, I drove up to the cemetery. This still don’t have the concrete poured for his headstone, but they did have some grass pellets planted. I sat there for a bit and ugly cried.
If he were still here, I would have gotten him a gift card to his favorite restaurant instead of eating there without him. We would have taken him out for dinner at a place he would never had chosen himself. I’d order, and he would say, “That sounds good,” and order that, too. Little did I know that it was because the print on the menu was too small for him to read.
Instead, I sat alone, eating my breakfast and wishing he had one more birthday with us.