Happy Birthday to my Daddy

A letter of wishes on one of his days

Dear Daddy,

Today, September 14, is your birthday. It’s always been your birthday, and somehow I’ve always felt a little distance from this day, unlike other days that make me think of you. Your birthday is special of course, and it could have been the favorite day, but it’s not the one I’ve cherished most, and at times I’ve reflected on why that is. It’s a day to celebrate you but you’re not here to enjoy it. It’s a day to measure more years accrued, but your years have long come to a close. It’s a happy day with a sad feeling - a sad day with a happy feeling, so naturally the contradiction creates a bit of strange discord.

Searching for fresh answers, I came to realize something new - that while I remember decades of birthday celebrations for family, friends, and strangers, I don’t remember any of yours. Not even one. I can’t recall a single birthday cake or wish, no balloons or streamers, no image of you opening a present, no sound of us singing Happy Birthday just for you. I know I must have been there, I had to of been, and I know in my heart that a day to celebrate the beginning of your life would never go unrecognized by me. It’s just that in visiting and revisiting our precious memories together, a birthday for you doesn’t ever seem to be one of them.

While moving through the tasks of the day, I thought about this more, and I realized that in the curious cycle of our lives together, I was alive for your last 7 birthdays, and you were alive for the first 7 of mine. A perfect 7 for each of us. 7 of your years and 7 of my years. The first 7 of my birthday wishes and the final 7 of yours. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything or maybe it does, but it’s a thought that spun around in my mind for a while, so I thought I would share it with you either way.

Those 7 years we shared on Earth are dear to my heart, more than words or music or art convey, and I’m sorry that I don’t remember any of your birthdays. It’s wild how I’ve celebrated decades of them now since you left the world, and always when the day arrives I note with mixed emotion that it’s my Daddy’s birthday today, the anniversary of when he first arrived in the world. We’ve played concerts for you, shown your picture on a big screen behind us, sang Happy Birthday with crowds of people. I often light a candle, say a toast in your honor, and sometimes, just a few times, I’ve even bought you a gift.

But I’m sure you know these things already.

I have always believed that you’ve been here with me. Of course I’m not the keeper of all the secrets of the universe, so I couldn’t say for sure in what capacity, but I believe in all the possibilities of space and time, and I believe in the magic and mystery of the unknown, the unseen, the formless realm. I know it’s within the layers of that shadowy field where you reside, ever changing as a I grow, our communication riding the ebbs and flows of life as though we were sitting quietly on a boat in the fog, drifting nowhere, sharing silent words and sometimes a knowing look.

My physical heart is made from part of you, and so is my mind, my hands, all of me. You might not be here today to say ‘thank you’ for a birthday gift, to blow out candles upon a cake, to do any of the things that fathers and daughters probably do during birthday gatherings. Though whether or not you are here in your original physical form, my heart and hands are made from part of you, and my brother’s are too, so there is a real part of you here, always here, and that is nice to know.

So today on your birthday, we are celebrating you. Maybe I will light a candle, do a toast, tell a story. And maybe later on, we will sing a little song, just for you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday, Dear Daddy.

Happy Birthday to you. <3

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

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Thank you so very much for reading. <3 Sometimes it feels nice to write a letter. A letter of remembrance, apology, forgiveness, gratitude, appreciation, all of the above. We don’t need to send these letters, and the person they are written for doesn’t have to be reachable or even alive in this current world. If you like, write a letter for someone today. You don’t need to send it, and you don’t even need to share it with anyone else at all. It might feel nice though to write, read, think about it, and then send its intention out into the ether, release the ideas and let them go. Maybe write a letter to a distant relative, an ancestor from the past, one whose path you never got to cross. I actually really like that idea. I think I’ll give it a try, too. :)

Sending good wishes to anyone and everyone who could use them today. <3

**This post scheduled to be sent at 9:14am, in honor of September 14**