a birthday toast to my dad

It’s been almost 3 years since my dad passed away. And today would have been his 76th birthday. So amidst the Christmas celebrations, I’m raising a glass and toasting to my father.

A man of few words, his actions spoke volumes. And I always knew I was loved.

My dad was at every performance or event I ever had, camera in hand and video camera in the corner. He was involved in my brother's scout troop, and whenever we mentioned a fun craft we'd done at school he'd buy the materials so we could do it all again together as a family.

He encouraged me to follow my own path... cheering me on and reminding me that it's only failure if you don't get back up after you've fallen. He always dreamed of being an entrepreneur himself, so he was incredibly proud of all I'd done (and am still doing).

He was a wanderer, too. On weekends without us kids, he'd simply get in the car and drive... till he found a beach, a festival, or another new adventure for the day. So when I told him I was moving up to Oregon, he smiled through his tears and asked, 'How did you get to be so much like ME?"

And I think that's the thing. There are still moments when his absence is like a gut-punch that makes me double over in pain and grief.

But most days, I simply feel him with me. A part of me. Because there is sooooo much of my father in who I am as a person.

So I'm raising a glass of Wild Turkey (per his holiday tradition) and toasting my father:

To Dadoo...

Your life might not have been perfect, but it was filled with plenty of beauty, purpose, and JOY. You often told me, "live the life you love and love the life you live." Thank you for showing me how. And for your sarcasm, quick wit, and desire to find joy every day. You might be gone, but your spirit lives on within me. So CHEERS to the next adventure, whatever that might be.

(And happy birthday, Dadoo.)

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