Happy Birthday Dad

As usual, even in death, I'm late on the birthdays.  I've never been good at those things, cards and balloons and all.  But on February 23rd, my Dad would have celebrated his 82nd birthday.  Naturally, it being the first birthday since his passing, things were a bit somber.  Didn't help that by the time we made it to the cemetery, a little over an hour and a half north of here, the temperature had dropped and the winds were blowing.  Still, I saw that my sister, as always, came through with the decorations.  I stood in the snow and prayed that Dad is in the loving arms of God, and that peace be his and ours as we remember all the things he did for us, and all the love he showed. 

My sister comes through with flowers and balloons and Thomas the Tank Engine for all the Railroad memories

Sick and feeling bad, our 16 year old put on a brave face

A little more emotionally sensitive, our 13 year old tends to take these visits a little harder than the others

On the other hand, our 11 year old sets himself to a task, in this case building a snow wall to keep the winds at bay

Our youngest, who will never really remember Dad, gets into the act of helping with the snow wall

The flowers, balloons and finished wall with all our love.
Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen

On a stranger note.  The good news is it looks as though I got the position I applied for last week.  Not the highest management I was shooting for, but management nonetheless.  A decent salary, though Dee Dee will still need to get a full time position at this point (we were hoping, dare I say praying, that I could swing something with enough income for her to stay home and home school, but alas). 

Anyway, last night during a fitful night's sleep owing to thunderstorms and a frightened two year old, I dreamt of moving into the home that my Dad built when I was 2 years old, and refurbishing it.  The family and kids were there.  It was, as dreams go, of the more 'realistic' kind.  That type of dream where, upon waking, you have to shake yourself and convince yourself it was just a dream.  I thought it ironic that on the day I get some assurance I can, hopefully, continue to provide for my family, I dreamt of that place that always epitomized the care and provisions that my Dad made for us.  Thanks for everything Dad, you are missed!