My dad's birthday

My father had a birthday this week and even though we had planned to get together as a family to celebrate over the weekend, I hated the idea of my dad being alone on his actual birthday, so I invited him to come over for a home cooked meal on his official birthday. I invited Duffy and Casey, my parents dogs, to join us as well, which seemed to make all three of them very happy.

Before they arrived, I was filled with such a mixture of emotions, I could barely keep up with all the thoughts running through my head and heart. I was excited about them coming over, sad that it would be the first time I had ever celebrated my dad's birthday without my mom here and I knew that from now on, nothing would ever be the same. I worried that I cooked more to my mom's tastes than my dad's (an over-use of garlic), I felt happy and sad as I pulled out Lucky's water bowl and some of her toys for the boys to enjoy, and worried a bit about what my dad and I would talk about since I am happiest when I can talk about my feelings and my dad is happiest when he can avoid any discussion at all of feelings.

When they got here, my dad went straight to the restroom, and I laughed to myself as I was reminded that we were both cursed with the same tiny bladder. Casey quickly made himself at home, walking on the back of the couch, up the arm rest and over to the over-sized chair next to it, wagging his tail the whole time. Duffy was not as comfortable and started to panic that he couldn't find my dad. He ran in and out of every room in a frenzy and could barely breath until he saw my dad emerge from the bathroom.

Once we all settled down on the couch for some appetizers, conversation flowed easily. Much to my surprise, my dad even talked a little bit about his feelings, without my having to pry it out of him. Well, I did start with the question, "How are you doing, dad?" and he replied, "I'm doing fine." So after a pause, I followed up with, "How are you REALLY doing?" and then he did give me a more honest answer. Casey was happy to pick up where Lucky left off in the "unstuffing process" of one of the toys and Duffy occasionally reminded my dad that he too would like to try the appetizer.

We talked about the dinner he had a couple nights earlier with my brother and sister and he mentioned they had gone to Casa Lupe, a restaurant we have gone to as a family since I was a little girl. I was almost relieved I wasn't with them that night because I didn't know if I would be able to handle going to a restaurant that reminded me so much of mom. He asked if I had been there since they expanded and I said, "Yes, I put a picture of mom and I at Casa Lupe after the remodel in my blog . . . have you seen my blog recently?" and he said, "I've never read your blog."

I flinched inside, and I wondered if the day would ever come when I didn't still want my father's approval. My father must have noticed the flinch because he offered some additional explanation . . . that he doesn't spend much time on the internet and that he isn't into Facebook and that kind of stuff. For as much as I wanted to point out there there is a big difference between showing some interest in his daughter's work and Facebook, I knew that was not what was important at that moment, so instead I grabbed my laptop, pulled up my blog and showed him the pictures of mom that I had included in my recent posts. He seemed to enjoy the pictures and conversation began to flow again.

When it was time to eat, my dad assured me that he liked a lot of garlic, so dinner went well. The boys sat at my dad's feet, hoping that he might drop something . . . occasionally reminding him that they were still there, waiting patiently for a taste of his meal. I realized how much I missed sharing food with the dog laying at my feet so I grabbed some noodles without sauce on them to share with the boys and they were thrilled. When it was time for dessert, the boys didn't chime in, so I had to sing "Happy Birthday" all by myself :-) but I managed to do alright.

After dessert, dad and I continued to sit at the table, while guzzling glass after glass of water (did I mention I overdid it with the garlic?) and talked while the boys each found a nice spot on the couch to snuggle in for a nap. My dad and I found all sorts of things to talk about, so much so that we lost track of time. Everyone seemed happy and content, so it appeared that all my pre-dinner mental swirling may not have been necessary.

At any rate, the next morning, when I got up and saw dog toys on the floor and the couch, it made me smile in a way that told me I am more ready to get another dog than I had thought. As I thought more about the previous night, I was reminded of the importance of balance . . . my dad and I found some middle ground because I softened on my desire to talk about feelings the whole time and he was less stoic than he usually is. I realized that even though things will never be the same now that my mom is gone, it doesn't mean they can't be pleasant. They will certainly be different but different doesn't have to be bad. And finally, I reminded myself that what is really important is that *I* believe in what I am doing and as long as I believe in myself, that will be enough.