Today was my dad’s birthday, he would have been 69 years old. He’s been gone from us for four years now. Mom’s been gone a little longer and it is still rough. I think of them often, probably daily and I miss them but I try not to think about missing them. It sounds ridiculous but if I sit and think about missing them and how long it’s been I end up in tears.
Dad’s last birthday was Super Bowl Sunday. We all gathered out at the parental home and I think Dad was enjoying the dual Birthday and Super Bowl party. I was excited because my Colts had finally gotten their chance. Dad was still skeptical of the Colts after they had abandoned Baltimore in the dead of the night so many years ago. Mom had told him to let it go the previous year, “This is Hope’s team, her favorite guy, the quarterback, he didn’t have anything to do with it. He’s a nice guy, you should watch.” I guess this is where I mention that during my formative years my father was a high school football coach. From as long as I could remember until I was a senior in high school every Friday night between late August and mid November, maybe early December if the season went well, was spent at a high school football game. Dad’s skepticism had waned a bit and although he was still annoyed at the Colts for leaving Baltimore, he agreed that my team was doing really well.
On that Super Bowl Sunday, the Colts beat the Bears and fun was had by all. Dad was feeling really good and he said it was the best birthday he’d had in a long time. It seemed so fitting that we watched football and had such a good time for his last birthday. I am so very thankful for those memories.