All my love, always...

Today isn't my birthday. For that matter, neither is tomorrow. But, if you asked my Dad, he would have told you that technically, on a year that isn't a Leap Year, it should be celebrated on March 1. So, for each year over the past 29 years that wasn't a Leap Year, my Dad would tell me on the morning of the 28th that I should have a great day but, technically, it wasn't my birthday. It wasn't until the morning of the first that I'd receive that happy birthday from him. His jovial, booming voice saying "Happy Birthday Tush Tush" (an embarrassing nickname that no one else was - or is - allowed to call me).

Either way, the 28th or the first, birthday or not, today just doesn't feel the same without him.

About a week after I returned home from Las Vegas in September - the hardest trip of my life - I was rummaging through my things as I was moving and stumbled upon my birthday card from last year from him. And it gave me the chills. Just a few words to "carry in my heart." It's almost as though he placed the card there for me to find it. It's served as the background on my phone for the last several months - both as a reminder that I had the most incredible dad anyone could ever ask for but also because I love seeing his writing. "All my love, always, Dad."

Well, Dad, today may be my "sort of kind of birthday" but, today, - just like every other day - I have an emptiness in my heart. I miss you. I love you. And I wish you were here to celebrate this birthday and the next 30.