Today would have been my Dad’s 70th birthday. What a milestone that would have been. Only he died almost 6 years ago aged 63.
It’s funny, this birthday has been a long time coming really. I remember my Mum suggesting last year that we all get together to ‘celebrate’ it in some way. And it still felt a really long time away. And then she booked a restaurant local to her a good couple of months ago, and it seemed mad to be doing it so early (it gets busy apparently!). But now the day is here and it has completely flown around.
And yet it wasn’t the first thing I thought of today. In the busy world of being a parent myself, my first thoughts was about my boys. About the day ahead, putting some washing on, making tea and making their breakfast. And then as Zach was walking from the kitchen to the front room with his breakfast, he started singing happy birthday. Not because of my Dad, but because he had put a smiley face of fruit on his Weetabix and it must have reminded him of candles on a cake. And at that point he reminded me that it was dad’s birthday. And I felt a little sad at that point as my thoughts started turning to the celebrations that would have been, had we not cruelly lost him.
70.
I wonder what we would have got him for a big birthday like that. It would have been something special. Maybe something big that we all chipped in for.
And I wonder how we would have celebrated. Would we have thrown him a party? Invited the family down, secretly contacted all of his friends.
Or would it have been a more simple affair? A special dinner, with just us lot together.
And I wonder what he would have looked at aged 70. My Dad never really seemed to age, but adding on 6 years to the last time we saw him healthy, I’m sure there would probably be some noticeable differences.
But we will never know. We will never know how we would have celebrated. We will never know what we would have bought him or what he would look like now.
Instead, when we sit at the restaurant dinner table later today, eating a meal, chattering away and trying to keep the kids from going wild, there will as always, be that one missing person.
Happy 70th birthday Dad. You are still so sorely missed every single day. We shall raise our glasses to you today, wherever you may be.
Shan says
Really bittersweet reading this. My dad is and always will be my hero. Other men have tried and failed to live up to his ridiculously high standards. I’d be lost without him! He was 70 in April. I send you a huge virtual hug, from North Wales through the inter webs ❤️
Mummascribbles says
Aww thank you so much lovely. Your dad sounds wonderful and a belated happy 70th birthday to him xxx
franbackwithabump says
What a lovely post and you definitely take after your dad! I’m sure you’ll be raising a glass to him xx
Mummascribbles says
Thanks lovely – his genes sure stay strong in our family! My nephew is the spitting image of him!
thewillowtree1 says
Raising a glass too for your Dad on his 70th birthday – he was taken from you all so soon. Life is cruel and unfair and we all have to pick up the pieces and carry on. As that’s life. And sometimes that tough. Sending lots of love xx
Jenni - Odd Socks and Lollipops says
This is such a lovely read, it’s so lovely that you all got together to celebrate your dad’s birthday. It’s so strange when birthday come round, Halloween hasn’t been the same since my auntie passed away as it was her birthday
Katie says
I’m so sorry you didn’t get to celebrate his big birthday with him sweetie. I hope you’ve managed to share your memories of him today and celebrated his life. Sending lots of love xxx
Emily Nellist says
I’m so sorry for your loss, but how lovely that you have so many happy memories together of him? I’m sure he’s watching over you all with a smile.
Anonymous says
This is such a beautifully written post, sending all of the love for his 70th birthday – I’m sure he would be immensely proud! xxx
Mummascribbles says
Thank you so much lovely 🙂 xx