Happy Birthday Dad
Just simply writing him an email that says "Happy birthday Dad" is bad enough. There is no "Love Bret" or "Your Loving Son" or "Hope to See You Soon" at the end to maybe comfort him, or even me. All there is is some distant hatred, resentment, and awkwardness that should not come from two people that loved each other as much as him and I did.
Countless nights I have spent crying and punching walls over my father. I would get so upset over how much I missed him and how much he destroyed my life. There was no physical abuse or heavy drug use or domestic violence that you may think to blame. There was only a very hurt and confused man that was hurting everyone around him. You can't really get mad at nature for the tornado it created that smashed the trailer park. You just have to realize that sometimes nature is a motherfucker. On the same hand, you also don't want to live in that trailer park or ever see a tornado again after it has ripped apart your home.
There are so many good times that I remember having with my father that I well up in the eyes just thinking about them. There was the way he used to jerk the car from left to right to make me roll across the big L seat of the front of his car. There was no one that could talk to me or make me laugh like my father. There were the countless nights of Gin, Scrabble, Boggle, and Trivial Pursuit. I owe every mental attribute or accolade and the formation of my love of laerning to my father. There were "Bret" days where I didn't have to go to school and we would go to the movies, museums, baseball games, and to some place really cool to eat lunch. There were the times when he was my biggest fan and got more joy out of seeing me succeed than any sense of pride I had ever seen in a man's face.
While he was still him, he was a very good father to me.
I won't go into the negative things because believe it or not this is his birthday wish and the toast that I'll never be able to give him. I'll never be able to kiss his old wrinkled forehead and have him lift up his grand children. These sentences are all I have in lieu of holding his hand as he becomes old. These words are in substitution of the life that we won't ever get to share.
I miss my father.
I love you Dad. Have a Happy Birthday.
Your loving son,
Bret
