Happy birthday, Daddy

Happy birthday Daddy. How I wish God could send you back just for one day. One day of smiles. One day of laughter. One day of hugs. And one last time of hearing you say you love me. Though you have been gone 16 years I miss you as much today as I did the moment you were gone.

They say time heals all wounds. Well, I know it doesn't. What I wouldn't give to set on your chair arm one more time and talk to you; to play deuces wild while we shared a  piece of your Hershey's Big Block Chocolate bar; to rub your back and make a quarter to spend on penny candy at the Stop and Shop; to lay out in the sun while you sat on the patio listening to your Red's playing ball; to go in the kitchen and fix you a cup of coffee; to set up your TV tray so you could eat in the living room because one of your favorite teams was being televised; to walk up town with you and go in Brady Hardware while you talked to your pals or bought a can of paint; to run all over the yard while we played badminton while you were able to hit every birdie I hit your way; to be driving down Main Street with the kids to come visit and to see you taking your walk and I would pick you up. 

The last time I saw you was in the hospital and I brought you some Jolly Pirate donuts and some coffee. We sat there in the hospital and talked while we ate our donuts and you told me about something you had read in the paper. Oh how I wish I had known those were our last father-daughter moments. The last time I would hug you and say I love you, Daddy. The last time you would tell me you loved me too. 

My only regret is that I didn't get to keep you long enough and that you can't be here to see your beautiful great grandchildren. Oh how you would love them. They are each unique in their own way and they would have loved you as much as I do. I didn't want to let you go. A part of me died that day when you left this world. A part I keep deep in my memories and hold them close to my heart. I love you, Daddy.