Happy Birthday, Dad

If he was still here, today would have been my dad's 83rd birthday. 

As many of you will know, he died in 2016. I always find it a bit strange, to remember and recognize the day someone was born even though they are no longer alive. I've shared some reflections on this day online in the past; experiencing his birthday the first year after his death in particular was quite hard. But as those who have experienced grief will undoubtedly be familiar, those feelings are dampened over time. Yes, the loss remains, but you come to understand that it's okay - carrying grief is something we all do - and learn how to live with it. 

On today, my dad's birthday, I've been thinking about how he would have fared in these pandemic times. If he was in good shape and mobile, as a fiercely stubborn, independent guy who was never big on rules or doing what he was asked (if he didn't want to do it), I suspect he would have continued to follow his own interests. I could see my family having difficulty explaining to him why the casino was closed and why he could no longer hang out there, why he shouldn't be engaging with the neighbours. Convincing him he'd need to wear a mask if going to the store? No way that would happen.

In short, my guess is that he would have been a nightmare, ha!

My dad during happier, non-pandemic times when people were
still allowed to travel... and wear those kinds of pants.

In reality though, towards the end of his life, he wasn't in good shape. He was very frail, not at all mobile, and often unable to understand what was happening. So in a lot of ways, it's a relief to think that he never had to endure this pandemic and that, frankly, our family was never subjected to the reality of trying to take care of him in the midst of COVID-19, as that would have been very hard. 

But hey, I still miss him... so it's a tough call. 

Happy birthday, Dad.