Yesterday my dad celebrated a birthday clear across the country. Almost 10 p.m. his time I gave him a call.
I'd been having a difficult day, but it was great to hear his voice.
He started the conversation by singing happy birthday to himself. Not "Hello" or "How are you?" just "Happy birthday to me," etc. Funny!
Then we launched into a favorite story from the last time we'd seen each other.
Our family is a group of "laughers." I know -- not a real word. But we are known for our laughter. Ask my daughters. They gaze at us with sincere, bemused puzzlement whenever we get together and the original family of six starts laughing. Tears stream down our faces. Shared memories, shared shenanigans. One time, my brother visited and three of us siblings laughed for three hours. The rest of my "now" family just shook their heads and eventually left us to our tears. These are pure times of joy.
And how I needed that yesterday. So as we recalled this incident, and with no one to see me uproariously undignified, I gave in to the belly laughs and let the tears run down my face. So freeing. Like medicine.
It's the gift Dad gave me on his birthday. Thanking God for him today.
~Net
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