Tuesday, June 9, 2015


As a family growing up, we never much bothered with birthdays. Matter a fact, I am embarrassed to admit that I’m not even sure when my mother’s was: whether it was the 23rd or the 24th. Even when she was alive, I always confused her birth date with the day my parents were married. That right there shows how much emphasis was never put on the silly recognition of any of it. Then, everything changed when my Dad celebrated his 60th Birthday.

Happy Birthday Dad...!
TAKEN: JUNE 9th, 1988
Photo (c) yagottalaughaboutit.com
With so much focus being put on my wedding, I decided to throw my Pops a surprise party. You see, his happy day happened to fall two days before I got married. His home was shamefully strewn with everything imaginable for a young bride's big day yet as my day drew near, I wanted him to know that he was as appreciated as he was making me feel I was. Twenty seven years ago today, I can report he was truly surprised. Not only by my gesture but by the love of the people that filled his livingroom.

Just look at that smile!

In hindsight, that night was a catapult for he and I. His 60th Birthday was a new beginning of how he and I looked at celebrating the day of his birth. With me being married the 11th and the twins eventually being born the 5th, no matter what we were up to at the time, everything stopped for that one single week a year.

One of the most memorable parties was when the twins celebrated their first birthday and he celebrated his 65th. Our small little 1,000 square foot home across the street from his was bursting at the seams with family and friends. As time passed, each and every year the celebrations got bigger and understandably more cherished. True to the occasion to the end, we spent the majority of his last B-Day together in the emergency room. Though his spirits were good I would have never imagined a little better than two week later our jokes and paper hats would be replaced with funeral arrangements.

I had an American lawyer friend comment last weekend on the affinity that I have of my Dad. He admitted that he has the same with his but that his father is still alive. As silly as it reads I feel like my Dad is still with me too. I still talk to him and we mention him all the time in our home. Though he may be out of sight, he most definitely will never be out of mind. You see, not only was he my Father, he was my friend.

Happy 87th Birthday Poppa. We all love and miss you very much.