April 25 would have been my Dad’s 60th birthday. As I sit and ponder, I imagine what this day would have been like if mesothelioma hadn’t robbed us of him. It’s kind of difficult to think about, but my mind wanders there nonetheless.
When Dad turned 50, we had a huge surprise party for him. It was a night filled with music (provided by his band, of course), family, friends, and fellowship. I will never forget the beaming smile that he carried throughout the gathering; it was even more glowing than usual. Dad was so happy to be surrounded by those he loved, and touched that they took the time to be with him.
My father deserved to be celebrated every day, even though he never would have agreed with my sentiments. He was a humble man who felt that he was just doing what he was supposed to do. This meant helping others, seeing the best in every situation, and most of all, being true to his faith. There was not a fake bone in Dad’s body; with him, what you saw was truly what you got.
It is honestly heartbreaking to think that my Dad won’t be here to celebrate such a milestone with us here. I do, however, take comfort in knowing that whatever he’s doing up in Heaven pales in comparison with anything we could plan on earth. Happy birthday, Dad. We love and miss you, and we know that you’re having a beautiful celebration that will last for eternity.
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