October 23rd, 2012

the early years

a birthday ... a death day ... a day ...

When my father turned 43, he had one of the best birthdays of his life.
30 years later he had the worst and last birthday of his life.
I am trying hard to remember the good birthday 30 years ago. And feel lucky I got to experience and remember it.
Today on his birthday, I am going to the cemetery almost 2 years after his death for the third time, save for the funeral.
I do not know what it is. But I think it is wrong to only remember and "celebrate" his death. I want to remember. Remember the good birthdays. The good days. Because we had a lot of those.
I want to remember.

I remember.