This was one of the last Birthdays we spent with our Dad. The video is only a few seconds long, and is really just a glimpse of his profile blowing out the candles, and our Mom cheering as he does so, but I often find myself captivated by it. My heart is briefly filled with light as the candles glow, and fades to darkness as quickly as the video does. I realize it’s symbolic of how my life has been since he died. I have flashes of love, and joy, but as soon as I stop to catch my breath, reality creeps back in through the stillness. I am grateful to have this memento, a small reminder of the flesh, breath, and bones from which I was forged, a tangible memory amongst a sea of ideas. My Dad was an imperfect person. He exercised poor judgement, made mistakes, and caused pain. He was also full of hope, faith, and was as selfless as he could be selfish. He was as we all are, a collection of thoughts, ideas, actions, reactions, good qualities, as well as bad. Our parents raised us to love unconditionally, to accept people for who they are, without stipulations. That isn’t the same as unconditional support, and through the years my parents and I fought hard, sometimes violently, against one-another because of it. Even when the words “I hate you” flew from my mouth, they couldn’t have been further from the truth. And though there were times when they broke my heart, they never broke my love for them. I miss my Dad. I miss his often obnoxious sense of humor, the way he laughed, and the way he loved. I miss all that he was, wasn’t, and hoped to be. I miss him every day, flaws and all. Happy Birthday. I love you. 
