Happy Birthday Dad!

This morning I caught myself staring out the dining room window toward the cheerless winter sky and realized it reflected my mood with vivid resolution.  You see an Alberta clipper, moved through Springfield two days ago and in it's wake left frigid temperatures and a bleakness one normally attributes to the waning weeks of this season. 

The past day my countenance has been somber, quiet, and withdrawn, feelings I attribute to the fact that today is my father's birthday, he is seventy-eight years of age, or is it more accurate to say, "he would have been" seventy-eight years of age, I'm not really certain. 

Robert L. Slark Sr., my father, died almost four years ago, and although many people believe "time heals all wounds", for me the sting of his death intensifies with each passing year.  Perhaps it's because I am getting older, or maybe it's regret for words misspoken, or worse yet, those I left unsaid!  I will never be certain, all I know is I miss him!

My dad was not a perfect father, and saying so doesn't diminish his enormous impact and influence on the man I have become.  God knows I failed miserably at being a perfect son, but I knew he loved me and I hope he was aware of my love for him. "Happy Birthday Dad!"


Love,

Your son