Happy Birthday Dad

I felt like talking…

I just talked to my Dad via cell phone tonight. Today is his 65th birthday! He’s at home making himself some sweet potatoes, while his blue jeans swish in the washing machine. Yep. Seriously…

He worked today. Trying to stay busy, Dad was between town and the feedlot throughout the day running errands, as his weakened muscles still keep him from doing a lot of the physical work required to raise cattle. His buddy Dale, who retired a few years ago, came out and rode by cattle pens with Dad for old times sake.

They drove to town and had lunch together, which must have been fun. Listening to Dad retell their experience proved that a good time was had by both, I think. A great salad bar and crappy pizza, he recalled. Ha. We like the salad bar, he insisted.

I wish I could give Dale a hug for keeping Dad company today. Two old cowboys content with each other’s silence is all I can ask for really.

Sounds like Dad had a fine birthday. He was chipper on the phone and admitted to answering his Facebook messages, as they came in, which is awesome. I’m thankful for Facebook. It keeps him closer to friends and family.

To be honest, I’m more disappointed in how his day turned out than he is. He should be enjoying our company tonight. His loved ones singing Happy Birthday over a big chocolate cake would have been ideal. We should be watching him blow out 65 candles.

In reality, he deserves kisses from his daughters, a beer from his son and gifts from his grandchildren. And then maybe, after we’d all left, he’d get to have sex, in an effort to finish off the day perfectly. I mean, seems fair, I think.

I’m bummed that his birthday didn’t look like a birthday. However, he seems fine and quite happy. I think he’s just used to every day looking about the same.

I can recall years ago when a birthday meant we got to choose what was for supper, while deciding who in the family got to bake our birthday cake just as we’d pictured it. Tonight, Dad said he wouldn’t have minded my lasagna and a piece of chocolate cake.

It’s my issue when I consider Dad’s day a less than an ideal birthday, I know.

Dad’s 65 today, and next week he receives his last two rounds of chemo. My prayer is that his doctors find him in perfect health, free of Leukemia. I don’t want to talk to him about living with cancer anymore.

I want our conversation to be about how proud I am of his decision to beat cancer. I need to hug him and thank him for fighting the disease with all the strength he had.

I took this photo while Dad was backing his boat into the lake this summer. I should’ve been in the boat already, but I wanted a picture first.

Happy Birthday, Daddy ♡

image

♡Best Dad in the world
Happy Birthday, Fisherman
Wish our summer back ♡

Advertisements

60 thoughts on “Happy Birthday Dad

  1. Happy Birthday to Audith’s Dad, for sure!!!

    Now that pizza actually sounds good to me. I fear I have a thing for crappy pizza and a salad bar.

    (And it’s cool that he’s a cowboy.)

    And he’s still young! He’ll be old when he reaches my age.

    • Thank you, Duke.

      You would have a thing for crappy pizza, salad bars and for siding with my dad. What do you suppose crappy pizza tastes like?

      (And you act like this is the first you’ve heard of it.. *shakes your hand* Hi, I’m Audrey.) Yes, lots of cowboys in my family. Cowgirls, too.

      He is young! Looks young, too. You wish you were old. I used to believe you were old….those were the days.

    • Well….maybe the crust is more chewy than normal. Maybe the sauce is pink, not red. (Sauce has to be red, you know.) And maybe the mushrooms were very small. How’s that?

      *laughs* No, no. That’s not what I meant. I love that he is, is what I meant. See, I’ve always loved cowboys. I used to have a collection, see.

      What’s that mean: those were the days? Makes me shiver.

    • Chewy crust is better than hard crust, so I have to say that isn’t crappy. Pink sauce…that is nasty. I wouldn’t eat it! (Here, there’s this pizza place, that must be the closest thing to an authentic east coast pizza joint we have, which I’ve never been to but vision as this one is, in my mind, and they make great pizza. The owner, I’ll say his name is Tony, cause that just screams Italian and pizza but his name is probably Ethan or Logan, talked me into his signature pizza. He makes it with alfredo sauce and tops it with carnivore ingredients…bacon, pepperoni, sausage, hamburger (who knows what else) and loads of cheese. I’m telling you this because you said sauce should be red….well, this pizza changed my life. Red sauce being the only sauce…Isn’t so anymore…) *Audith rambles*

      *smirks* Okay. A collection of cowboys. How nice. What happened to them?

      Well, it means that I know you’re not old and younger than I am. And the days when I believed you to be older than I were mysterious…however, you’re still quite mysterious because I still feel like you’re a complete mystery and old. *laughs cause that made no sense* See this is a problem!!

    • Well…hard crust can be good! I went to this joint when I was a yonker and the crust was always so hard! So, that’s how I expected it should be. Nowadays, I make pizza, see. On this green egg thingy. It’s like an outside oven. I get that baby up to 600 degrees. Makes awesome pizza, I think. (That is a wonder! Such a good point. I admit, the alfredo sauce sounds really, really good. But he needs veggie’s on there, wouldn’t you say? Tell Logan he must put at least some veggies on.)

      Well, they fought the indians. Most of them died, I believe.

      *laughs* Hey! I’m still older than you. I mean, think about this: could I really be as young as I seem the sudden? Just think of how old I seemed before. That should help.

    • A yonker? *laughs* Doesn’t seem like anything an Italian would do, Duketh….cooking on a green egg thingy!? 600 degrees? You’re killing your crust, it seems…and evaporating the cheese. Goodness!! I’m dying to see this thing now. (Tis good, truly. I agree, Logan should have a version with veggies, but no dadblame banana peppers. Period! Loads of fresh tomato, please.)

      Poor Cowboys…

      Umm, okay. Ponders. I’m not sure I can, you know. You aren’t playing very nice, but I will figure it out.

    • Well, that’s it’s name. It’s actually a big outside oven. The pizza is done in about 5 minutes. Remind me, and I’ll take some pics for you in the summer. (Yes, but banana peppers are good!)

      *laughs*

  2. Aw, Audrey, this is beautiful! When my dad was alive (I lost him to cancer six years ago), he never wanted much for his birthdays — Just write me a few words, was the way he put it. He’d have welcomed a loving post like this!!

    Congrats to your dad for reaching a milestone b-day, and here’s a prayer he’s one of the lucky ones to beat that disease. Chocolate cake does sound better than sorry pizza, but at least he was in the company of an old friend! I think parents realize their kids have to grow up (and sometimes, away) as time marches on.

  3. This story of love is a marvelous 65th birthday gift to your dad, Aud.

    If he’s happy, you should be happy.

    Knock on wood for great news following that last treatment. Praying here in Syracuse, my friend.

  4. A beautiful post. Having spent a number of birthdays away from the children, I can tell you your dad appreciated the phone call. As we age, birthdays become less extraordinary and the everyday more important. Bad pizza, salad bar, a good friend = a good day. A good daughter you are Audrey to worry about your dad’s birthday.

  5. Your dad may not have had an ideal birthday, but it sounds like he had a really good day hanging out with a good friend. Treasuring those kinds of moments is very valuable, I think. And I send many well wishes that the doctors find him cancer free.

  6. How sweet, hearts, picture and all—a birthday tribute. We can’t all decide what happens to our parents, of course, but if he’s a strong cowboy/fisherman there’ll be more birthdays to come. I don’t want to go into the negatives or empty appologies on cancer (it sucks), so I’ll just say, I’m wishing you guys the best. 🙂

  7. Good luck to your dad. I lost my dad to that disease a few years ago now. I don’t pray, but my positive thoughts are with you.

Tell Me, Please...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s