Belated Birthday Wish

I was thinking the other day, about my Dad, and how I had kind of hoped the baby would be born on his birthday. It's not that I was so much looking for a sign, although maybe I was, but it was a fun thing to imagine something so special. Oh, the smile my dad would have had on his face. I've always loved my dad very much, yet I never had enough of his presence in my life to ever truly feel that close to him. In his last few days in the hospital, I felt that closeness...then suddenly he was gone.

Funny thing...Dad wasn't the best at remembering birthdays. He tried. My parents were divorced when I was young, and he worked a LOT. I didn't see him that often, but he usually showed up bearing gifts-his way of trying to make up for that, I suppose. He worked so hard all his life to make up for the mistakes he had made. And also, I think in part, as a punishment for himself.

As a kid, holidays were the one time I knew I would spend time with my dad. He would show up with gifts or candy, or money. But birthdays? Well, he had a hard time with birthdays. He would often call a couple days later, apologizing for forgetting. He was forever guessing our ages, poor guy had a hard time keeping up with how fast we were growing up. Once or twice I recall a card actually arriving early. He was determined to get that birthday thing right.

In the last, very uncomfortable weeks of my pregnancy, I was waiting and waiting for Ezra to arrive, and as with Phoebe, I didn't progress. The 25th of January rolled around and I was having such intense pain that I thought it might actually happen. It just HAD to happen soon. When the boy did not arrive on his own, I threw in the towel and had him "removed" the following night. One day after Dad's birthday. Maybe not a sign...but instead a wink to my Dad. A belated birthday gift. When I listen carefully, I am quite sure I hear him chuckle.

Happy Birthday Dad!