This Sunday is my birthday, daddy. Remember?
Always, at the promise of another fruitless and boring two months, we would all ring in the new summer with the utmost joy. It was cantaloupes and fresh watermelons dripping all over our clothes, windows rolled down as we blasted down the road on our way to Mexico, and countless time spent with you in the car while you transported us to worlds magical and far away. Summer was a promise of spending it with you, and my birthday was always my countdown marker.
Now, as I watch the days approaching the dreaded date, I think of you yet again and miss you, again. It was a lifetime I spent with you. Even after I married, I refused to leave Houston so as to be with you all. And now, as life makes us older and we are weathered and beaten down, I think of you and how great it was to have you in my life. I miss you. God has been too good to me. For all your faults and weaknesses and sins (yes, I omitted the comma on purpose), I was blessed to have had you and learned from you. You were a wad of wisdom and full of unconditional love for me. I will never know another man who could love me that way, but you have filled me with love for myself and belief that God is great. Ironic, daddy, don’t you think? Especially since you wanted zero to do with religion.
Here I am, on the brink of another year gone by, and I’m missing you fiercely. You did what you set out to do, daddy. You were always there for us, and I will love you until my death for that. I carry you with me wherever I go.
In my life, you are a hero. Flaws and all, I love you all the same. I leave you with this prayer that one day you and I be reunited. And, when I see you again, in Paradise, God willing, we simply pick up where we left off. You and I, holding hands as we take a stroll and count our many blessings.
I yearn to see your beautiful eyes again, daddy, and to feel your loving embrace. Happy birthday to me, daddy, for the memories you gave me. I will forever be a daddy’s girl.
Gaby, La despeinada