Today is my birthday. And for the first time in 35 years, my dad won't be calling me and singing "Happy Birthday". You need to know what a big deal it was for him to do that. He didn't even sing in church. Yes, he'd sing along with the Statler Brothers, but never on his own.
When I was growing up, he sang before I went to school. When I moved out and went to college and out into the big world, he and mom would call me bright and early in the morning and when I'd pick up the phone, they'd start singing. I looked forward to it every year. I'd take the cordless phone to bed with me because I knew they would be calling.
One year, they didn't call in the morning. I called Dad (mom was at school) to ask him something and never mentioned my birthday. He called back that afternoon, apologizing for forgetting to call and sing. He didn't realize the date until he wrote out a check.
And this year, I won't hear his voice. And my heart breaks.
When I was born, I came home from the hospital on my dad's birthday, exactly a week later. The best present he ever got.
How will I get through this day? I don't know.
But I'm going to deliver eggs to our wonderful customers who support our dreams. I'm going to pick out a Christmas tree and decorate it with my kids. I'm going to get my free birthday dinner at Paradiso. And I'm going to miss my dad. Oh, how I'm going to miss him.
I'm kinda hoping my mom doesn't call. I don't think I could stand to hear her sing alone...