Today would have been my dad's 81st birthday. I thought about him all day, of course, and decided it would be a good day to go visit my mom, since I rarely take the time to do that.
My son and I also seized the opportunity to bring home my dad's '93 Chevy truck, which my mom graciously said CW could have, since he turned 16 last August and we aren't rich enough to buy him a vehicle of his own.
My mom handed over the title and a "bill of sale," and after starting the truck with jumper cables, cleaning it out, and removing the abandoned mouse nest from under the seat, we began the 30 mile trip back home, with me in the lead. I thought about how happy it would make my dad to know that one of his grandkids would enjoy his truck and take care of it.
And all the way home, I got little jolts of bittersweetness every time I looked in the rear view mirror, because it was almost like seeing my dad back there, following me home.
Thanks for everything, Dad, and Happy Birthday.