Growing up, I always thought it was cool that my mom and dad had such close birthdays. They're eight days apart. I thought my dad's birthday was cool because it was in November, the topaz month and the month of my birthday. My wife and I have close birthdays, too, but not eight days apart. They're six weeks apart, to the day.
Today's my dad's birthday. I wrote about my mom's birthday last week. I knew her much longer than I knew my dad. He passed away 37 years ago. That's a long time to miss someone.
What I know about the man, I cherish. And now, those remembering him are dwindling, so the chance to speak with people who knew him--to learn more about him--are vanishing, and those memories are forever lost to history. Well, not forever...
There will come a day when all things will known and memories that could have happened will be made. Though I don't wish that day to come anytime soon, I do look forward to that day. It's going to be great. Happy birthday, dad.