Today is my Dad’s 75th birthday. Last year, I posted about him also. He liked it. But he thought it read like a eulogy. Well, I’ve set it aside for when I might need it for that. I hope it’s not for a long time. But, I digress.

Here we are. His birthday again. My dad doesn’t read my blog. He doesn’t have email. He doesn’t even touch computers. I know there are things that would totally rock his world online but he’s not interested. And that’s okay.

I decided to find a couple pictures of him to post here. Turns out, I have quite a few laying around. Of course, his expression is always the same. His weight, however varies greatly. I didn’t post the photos from when he was sick. He wouldn’t have liked those so much, I don’t think. But I bet he’ll like the one where he’s packing heat. And the one with Andrew and me where I’m wearing the Pretty Woman dress. And the one where he’s sporting the biggest sideburns I’ve ever seen.

Some of the things I like best about myself, I got from my dad. Like the ability to relate to people from all walks of life. And the love of words and writing. I also inherited a very odd sense of humor and a positive outlook. I think that my business acumen comes from him, too. Not to mention that I love to take road trips because of how fun he always made them. Come to think of it, I think I got my entire fun-loving gene from him. (Sorry, Mom. But Mom, I assure you that my sense of style, compassion and patience come from you.)

Growing up, my father always said he wouldn’t live past 50. Then it was 60. Then 70. Now? He might just live forever.

That would be just fine with me. But I have the eulogy written just in case.

7 thoughts on “

  1. I made an exception and read your blog. Thank your for the tribute. Your writing skills far surpass mine. Thank goodness you only inherited my good genes.
    Now that I’ve passed 75, who knows how long I’ll live.
    Thanks again for thinking of me.

  2. Love your tribute to your dad Wendy. I also love your honesty about the eulogy. It’s nice that your dad could already hear it. All of the nice things are usually said after we’re gone.

  3. Happy Birthday, Wendy’s Dad.
    Wendy, this was lovely, and a sweet tribute to an obvious wonderful father. Lucky you. Lucky him.

    Paula L.

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