Monday, August 28, 2006

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Today would have been my father’s 94th birthday. This is the first birthday without him for me. I do so miss him. If he were here, we probably bring him his most favorite dinners - cheese enchiladas. Every time we would go out, if they were available, that was what he would order,

We stopped taking him to a restaurant because the enchiladas are served boiling hot, but that wouldn’t stop him. He would begin eating as soon as they were placed in front of him. I imagine it was like eating molten lava.


Last year we brought him enchiladas for his birthday. It was obvious how the disease had ravaged his brain. We had to feed him. He could not remember how to eat the food. Like all the other symptoms I had observed over the years, I tried to ignore it. I told myself he was just distracted by all the people who were there. Then, just four months later, he was seriously ill. He had pneumonia - probably inspiration pneumonia. He had forgotten how to swallow.

I doubt I will live long enough not to be sad on August 28. I will remember Daddy’s birthday and be sad for the rest of my life. I will not have the time to heal as I have with my mother. She has been dead since 1972. I still remember her birthday, but the pain has subsided a great deal. I think of her, but there is not the terrible loneliness. Perhaps I feel more grief with Daddy’s passing because now I have no living parents.

I guess that is silly. After all, I am 61 years old, and this is the cycle of life. As my children will always be my babies. As long as I have life, they will be my babies. So I was still my Daddy’s baby, and I thought he would be with me forever.

Happy Birthday Daddy.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What a lovely tribute to your father.

You know, when our last parent dies, we become the oldest generation. In my case, no matter how old I got, how much I got better at responsibility and taking care of myself, I always knew that if anything went terribly wrong, mom or dad would be there.

After they were gone, I was truly on my own, and I think that is one of the shocks when our parents die. Now we must rely entirely on ourselves and no matter how old we are or how confident in our abilitiesht or how much experience we have or how many friends, it is an aloneness like no other.

The good news is that although the sadness is always there, we do get better at taking their place for those who are younger than we are. It's our job now.