April 6, 1920

Isn't it ironic that my Granddad, the most modest person I know, was born into what was arguably the most boisterous and richest decade of history.  The roaring twenties.  The era of the flappers.  The rise of technology.  The introduction of the Model T.  A period of volatile politics. 

Granddad, you just didn't fit that mold.

Today we observed your birthday...your 91st birthday.  It seems hard to believe that only a year ago we gathered nearly one hundred of your family members and friends together to celebrate 90 years of your life.  What a great celebration that was!  The surprise on your face to watch each and every person enter the reception hall.  Catching up with old friends, distant family members.  They all came to celebrate one thing.  You.

We miss you today.  Oh how I wish that I could have called you today to say "Happy Birthday."  To ask Grandie what time we would get together on Saturday and what I could bring.  Wondering if you were going to have a fruit pie or a coconut cake and hoping there was whipped topping so we could pacify the kids who preferred a fruit-free dessert. 

Instead of talking to you today, I walked with you.  I went to the park over my lunch dressed in your Columbia pull-over and we walked.  I needed some connection that was tangible, not just memories.  Your cologne lingers on that fleece.  If offers a piece of you, even if you aren't physically here.  It was warm comfort on a cold, rainy day.  On a fairly sad day.  Just as your pictures scroll across my digital picture frame, so did the memories.  They do everyday, but today especially.  Your picture fills the April 6 box on my calendar.  My reminder of your birthday...as if I could forget.

Tonight we had Grandie over for dinner, because we enjoy her company and because I can see the pain on her face every time we are together.  She misses you dearly.  We talked about you.  We talked about family.  We tried to fill the void. I miss you everyday and think of you at least ten times a day.

While we aren't having a party this weekend, you are close to our hearts and always on our minds.

 I hope that today, on your 91st birthday, you get a slice of rhubarb pie and a steamy cup of coffee.