Happy Birthday, Dad

Dear Dad,

 

Today is your birthday. I’m embarrassed to say Facebook reminded me you would’ve been 67 today. I’m home with just mom tonight. She misses you and your snoring at night. We all miss you. I actually think the dog misses you the most. She lays in your spot on the couch and gazes out the window. I secretly think she’s searching for you. I can relate with her. I’ve had the luxury of living in Iowa since you passed and in some ways it’s made it easier for me (and in some ways harder). But being home for Christmas has been different. I keep thinking you’re out running some errands or that you’re upstairs in your room. It doesn’t feel like you’re gone. We’re all just waiting for you to come home.

I was out at a bar for new year’s, and like most people, counted down the seconds until the new year. As soon as everyone had hugged and screamed ‘happy new year’ I reached for my phone to call you. I think it was the first time everything really hit me. I texted mom ‘Happy New Year’. Later that night, I snuck away and called your cell phone, hoping to just hear your awkward recording of your name, “…ehm David Sears…” Instead it was just a simple voicemail. No words. No voice. No dad.

Christmas has felt hollow this year, but I expected that. I said during your funeral that I should be grateful to have people in my life who can leave such a hole. It means you did your job, raising me and the family. We’ve all told our favorite stories about you. The time when you threw the Christmas tree out the patio door. Or about the time when you broke the oven door off. All the times you put up with my crap or Connor and Brendan’s crap. When you and mom first met.

The most interesting thing you’ve taught me is that, even though a person might not be here anymore, that doesn’t mean you stop learning about them. I’ll never stop learning from you, even though you’re gone. I’ve also learned you are the only person in our home that knew how to correctly wire our Christmas lights. (Seriously, how the hell did you make any of this crap work?)

I look back on things and still wonder how you were able to fight for so long. I don’t totally get how you did that, but I know that you are the strongest person I’ve ever encountered. Both physically and emotionally.

Anyways, I just wanted to say I miss you. And I love you. And Happy 67^th Birthday, Dad.

Your son,

 

Sean