Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Happy Birthday Dad

Happy Birthday, Dad. I wish you were spending it with us instead of in heaven this year.

You would be 68 years old today. It's been 8 months that you've been gone, 4 days shy actually. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, miss you, miss something in my life without you there.

I miss your infectious smile.

I miss hearing your voice.

I miss your hugs.

I miss being able to call you when things aren't right in my world.

I miss calling you for directions, no matter where I am.

I miss planning surprises for mom with you.

I miss you taking care of anything and everything for me.

I miss you teaching me about everything.

I miss our shopping days together, talking you into buying something for the house, or for mom, or buying something just because I think we need it.

I miss camping with you.

I miss bandaging up your scrapes - and scolding your for not being more careful.

I miss your cooking.

I miss going to football and baseball games with you.

I miss picking out and planting flowers with you.

I miss going on trips with you.

I miss you as my designated driver - or me as yours.

I miss hearing your stories - no matter how many times you told them.

I miss hearing about your crazy plans, trips, and ideas.

I miss you always knowing what to say to make me feel better.

I miss the way you always "bragged" about your wife, children and grandchildren to anyone who would listen.

I miss talking to you, minimum of once a day.

I miss you visiting me at work.

I miss your requests to go shopping to buy "in style" jeans and clothes.

I miss packing you for your trips at midnight the night before a 6 am flight.

I miss labeling your dress shirts, ties, and pants so you made sure you had the matching combination.

I miss your yellow spray painted line in the driveway to show us where not to park - if we didn't want to get backed into.

I miss your collecting of travel sized anything from all of your trips.

I miss you getting mad at me for doing things on the computer instead of showing you how.

I miss worrying about you.

I miss you running around on your scooter.

I miss the way you could always talk yourself out of things.

I miss you snoozing in the recliner.

I miss you being the leader of this Griswold family.

I miss being able to always count on you for anything.

I miss what a wonderful, proud grandpa you were.

I miss the way you never thought any food was old or outdated - no matter how much green stuff was growing on it.

I miss hearing you call me by my nicknames.

I miss your presence in this big house.

I miss everything about you ...

But most of all, I just miss my daddy, and being your little girl.

Happy Birthday daddy. I love you.