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.
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:
The snapshot sits framed on my desk, a tender piece of history.
Happy Birthday, Dad.