My dad's birthday was this week. I have honored that date with a piece of writing every year - until this one. Things with my mom just too time-consuming to do more than think and wave at this annual tradition.
So I'm a few days late. Which sucks. Part of the energy of this ritual is doing it on a particular day. Sitting. Being quiet. Maybe lighting a candle. Waiting for him to come in and say hi. After 29 years of this particular ritual none of the dressing is required anymore. He is always there if and when I need him. I do need him, more now than ever. And I have never been so glad to have him near as I am this year.
So we didn't do the ritual. Neither of us minded to awfully much. He still came in and spent some time with me while I was sleeping.
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