..and my Dad

Has his 86th Birthday today. If Big Daddy Don still walked this Earth, I'm sure he'd slide a little Johnny Walker Red Scotch into his glass of skim milk. Yea, Daddy liked him some scotch--said the milk helped his ulcer! I recall he let me sample his beverage of choice. I spit it out. It tasted like burnt wood. Dad laughed and I swore never again. Somehow I bet, Daddy found a way to get some scotch into Heaven...

A year ago, I posted about Dad's birthday and have some pictures. Click here for a look see.

On this day, I smile as I think of Daddy as his King Edward cigar dangles from his mouth--this is even as I run to him as he walks from work. Daddy would pick me up and twirl me around. And then that cigar would be there as he waited for me to pull up in the driveway from my 750 mile trip from Dallas. He only took the cigar out when he hugged me tight. I was where I wanted to be.

I miss those times.

I miss you, Daddy

Birthday Eve Bit

My father, Big Daddy Don, as a friend could call him, passed away in October 2001. I think about my Sweet Daddy every day. Today was no different. Bittersweet, really.

You see, back in the day, I tried to make it back to Iowa for my Birthday and if I didn't, Dad and I would be on the phone. One of our rituals--that and Cheeseburger Hamburger Helper. We would sit and wait for TVLand or some channel to play an Andy Griffith episode. We both hoped Barney Fife would be in it. And I would ask Dad, "So what's tomorrow?" Not to miss a beat Dad would say, "Trash day!"

I'd whine "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddddddddeeee!" and we'd both laugh. Then I'd ask, "So what were you doing x-years ago today?"

If we were on the phone I knew Dad's eyes would shine as he shifted that infamous King Edward cigar to the other side of his mouth--then his smile would start. Dad would replay how he waited for Mom to have me. He waited impatiently and also in fear. My parents didn't have any other children, in fact they had experienced four stillborn before me. The doctor advised this should be their last try. Mom couldn't handle much more. And then Dad would tell me how I arrived at 4:30 am and the nurse came running down the hall with a wailing 7 pound 14 ounce me and said, "Don,we got us a girl!!" I was headed to a incubator. I was born with one ear, called microtia, so questions abound--time answered them all. :)

I miss the re-telling of my birth. .

I miss getting a phone call at 4:30AM to wish me Happy Birthday.

And I miss the storyteller.

Sometimes, right before I fall asleep, I swear a hint of cigar smoke tickles my nose.

I am blessed.