Born on the 3rd of July

So if my Dad was still alive, he’d be 66 today. In September, it will have been six years since he passed. Seems like yesterday.

It’s funny when you think about “time” and how it passes. I can remember stretches of years that seemed like...well, they seemed like years. But since the old man left, I dunno. It’s weird. Sometimes it seems like I just blinked and he was there, and now he’s not.

Part of it’s probably just growing older. You get more time under your belt and more memories in your head, the less any one particular thing stands out. Maybe. Could be because I’m still single with no kids. I don’t have anything like an anniversary or a child’s birthday to give me tangible evidence of the years passing.

It gets even weirder when I break out the photo album. I was just looking at this pic today.



This photo was taken ten years ago today. That’s two of my best friends in Danielle (who also happens to have a birthday on July 3rd) and Dave and I at Dani’s birthday party. Dave now has a beard, but otherwise looks the same. Danielle’s gained like five pounds but basically looks the same. I’ve got a few more lines on my face, but I pretty much look the same too. WTF?

And then I think: this was ten years ago. In fact, going back to the time that pic was taken, it’s amazing to think my father has been alive for less than half of that decade. Double WTF!

But time flies and you make the best of what you’ve got. Hopefully you live happily ever after. But sometimes you don’t. Cancer, after all, is a motherfucker. So live, laugh and love, people, because you never know what tomorrow may bring. Well...actually, in this particular case, I do: another birthday. Happy birthday, America.