Happy Birthday Recording

Today was my 50th birthday. I've had a great few days. Spent some time away with some amazing gal pals and today talked to my mom on the phone and received her Edible Arrangement birthday bouquet. Still, I've been sad all day missing my father and wishing he could have been here for this milestone. From a couple (?) of years ago I have an answering machine birthday greeting from my parents ... they called and sang Happy Birthday to me on my answering machine. To my knowledge, it is the only recording I have of my father's voice and so it is currently my most prized possession. At the end of the song my dad says "isn't that beautiful?" ... he had no idea at the time how beautiful it would be to his 50-year-old daughter.

Flag-draped casket

Friday here was an overcast, drizzly, chilled day. And of course it was a day I had to be out getting a ton of stuff done - like license renewal. That actually didn't turn out to be so bad - for the first time ever I was in and out in under 40 minutes.

On the way out my attention was drawn to the neighboring cemetery where a funeral home was setting up a graveside service. It seemed I was immediately transported back to the graveside service for my father just over a year ago. The casket in this cemetery was draped with an American flag, just like my dad's was. The weather was almost identical - wet and cold - and so the funeral home had the tent up to protect the family members who would be arriving. The memory of my father's service was so fresh that I started sobbing in my car and thought I would have to pull over. I could picture the funeral attendants who met us at the car with umbrellas to walk us to the graveside and how cold and dreary it was under that tent. It was so hard saying goodbye to my dad that day and I felt like the heavens were sharing in my grief.

I knew the casket I saw Friday wouldn't be there alone for much longer. I knew that family and friends of that loved one who passed would soon be sitting there under that tent mourning their loss. I cried for my dad and I cried for them. I knew whoever they were, they were having a hard day.