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October 2002
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Today my dad turns sixty.
RC on his 2nd birthday - October 1944 60 - That's a benchmark that's hard to wrap my head around. So often my dad feels ageless to me. Maybe because I don't see him as much as I see my mom. Or maybe because in my mind Daddies Don't Age, I don't know. But it's a big day and a special occasion and it's worth marking. There are a multitude of reasons why my father is special to me, even if sometimes I don't know how to express even one.
Delt Portrait - 1961(ish) Even though he's often an enigma to me, sometimes I feel like I understand him so well, because there have been many times when I've realized that I am him, bad parts included. When my mom and I used to get into our brawls brought on by my teenage suburban angst, my favorite retort (usually yelled over the balcony) was "Well, I am my father's daughter!" I got my ability to detach from him, no doubt. But I also got my dimples and questioning mind and love of dogs and (sometimes reckless) fearlessness from him. My mother gave me Faith, but my father gave me reason. (And sarcasm and humor and a love for the strummy music, along with my long legs and white blonde hair.)
RC, Hannah and G - Summer/Fall 1976 I hope he's proud of me because I am so proud of him. Happy Birthday Daddy.
The notify wants sixty pieces of cake.
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