on my father's 90th birthday

my father turned ninety years old on sunday. i wanted to give him a celebration that was memorable and, with the help of my family and my friends, the party on sunday was better than i'd hoped for. i am a perfectionist at heart so there are few occasions that ever turn out 'good enough,' let alone 'better than i'd hoped for.' but sunday, despite my miserable cough/stuffy head, despite the frigid temperture, despite that my mom had to be shuttled in from the nursing home she is currently convalescing in, was a perfect day. all invited speakers were there and they spoke eloquently. the guests arrived on time, the food was plentiful and delicious and the actual program, the one i'd worked on for months, was solemn and sweet and funny and a perfect tribute to my dad.

i turned the microphone over to the commander of the legion, mike, because i realized i couldn't speak without coughing. he became the master of ceromonies and he was terrific. i delegated the reading of my poem ('to dad') to my friend/minister susie (acting chaplain) and i swear it sounded better read by her than written by me. i listened to her and thought, what a beautiful poem. it brought tears to my eyes. as stage manager, not m.c., i was able to savor each and every moment. the dignitaries. the medals. my aunt. my nieces and nephews. neighbours. old friends. my sisters and brothers. my son and his girlfriend. my cousins. my mom. my dad.

having a parent live to be 90 is a bittersweet experience. 90 years of living takes its toll on a person...on their health. on their abilities. but not all changes are sad...eventually the roles fade away and it isn't so much parent to child as it is person to person. if you ask questions and if you pay attention, you learn so much.  i know more about who my father was growing up, who his family was, how the events in his life shaped him.  i see dad now as more than my parent, i see him as this incredible man who managed to touch so many people with his wit and his wisdom. and i am thankful for the blessing that is my father.

'my father's hair is now coloured with grey but he still continues in his gypsy way. he's very content with
the life that he's had. they said he was just like his dad. i love my father. i always will. he has some shoes
that no man can fill. and the greatest compliment i've ever had is being told that i'm just like my dad.'

happy birthday, dad.