Dad's 83rd birthday.
Birthdays really aren't all that important. It just marks the passing of another year. But it's a time to remember.
We even ate Dad's favorite kind of cake on his birthday: Yellow cake with chocolate icing!
Remembering my dad, thankful for his impact in my life and the legacy he leaves.
Birthdays really aren't all that important. It just marks the passing of another year. But it's a time to remember.
What a treat for me to be in his hometown this weekend. I don't know what time of day Dad was born, but it was a still, brisk, beautiful morning for me on Sunday, as I took a walk down the quiet streets of his hometown wondering what life was like 83 years ago on this very day.
Dad lived most of his growing up years in this house, to be sure. He wasn't born in this house, but in a previous house that was built on this same property that belonged to my grandparents.
It was good to see it with signs of life again. Bikes on the porch, a dog barking in the yard, a swimming pool out back.
I continued on to the town cemetery. Out to our family plot.
And then back 700 miles away to Dad's earthly memorial in our church cemetery on a different fall morning....
It was good to see it with signs of life again. Bikes on the porch, a dog barking in the yard, a swimming pool out back.
I continued on to the town cemetery. Out to our family plot.
And then back 700 miles away to Dad's earthly memorial in our church cemetery on a different fall morning....
We even ate Dad's favorite kind of cake on his birthday: Yellow cake with chocolate icing!
Remembering my dad, thankful for his impact in my life and the legacy he leaves.
