Here’s a confession: I have mixed feelings about the month of May. On one hand, May is marvelous! It means warmer weather, sundresses and sandals. It brings Cinco de Mayo festivities, the Kentucky Derby and, of course, the gateway-to-summer Memorial Day holiday.
Classic car show in Chester Springs, PA on Memorial Day 2008
But May is also melancholy. The bookends of my dad’s life occurred during this month. He was born on May 2, 1938. He passed away on May 19, 1999. Anyone who’s ever grieved for someone near and dear knows that you never get over the death. You learn to live with it—the experience becomes part of you. In this post last year, I reflected on what my dad meant to me.
And this non-Instagram-filtered photo says it all:
Daddy’s little girl
The snapshot sits framed on my desk, a tender piece of history.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
Dear Jen, Thinking of you, sending good thoughts. What a wonderful photo of you and your Dad.
I know how you feel….I feel every Oct.
[…] This past year, I wrote a whole lot more about house-related purchases than fashion-related ones (a side effect of being a first-time homeowner). I also saw art exhibitions (Gaultier at the DeYoung Museum and Ai Weiwei at the Hirshhorn were especially enjoyable), daydreamed about a beach vacation, captured the angst and elation of gift wrapping, and got wistful (as usual) about the month of May. […]