Eli plays the piano in this photo taken in 2009.
Today is Dad’s ninety-first birthday. Alas, he is no longer here to celebrate it with us... and yet he will always be with me.
I cannot play the trumpet or piano like he did. But I can still tell some of his jokes, almost (but not quite) as well as he did.
In our tradition, birthdays - especially those of departed family and friends - are not nearly as important as their Yahrzeits, the anniversaries of their departures. Perhaps that is because a person is a blank slate at birth, and the full measure of their accomplishments is only known after they pass.
And yet we still like birthdays, don’t we? It’s got to be for more than just the cake.
Happy birthday, Daddy. I miss you.
Posts
1 comment:
No matter how old we get, we're still someone's child.
Post a Comment