Happy Birthday

Today marks my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 60 if he had lived.

I have this memory of him. It’s summer. We’re driving down an otherwise deserted road — I am pretty sure we’ve just come from fishing somewhere where we weren’t quite supposed to be — and this song comes on the radio:

I know he was singing along, but I couldn’t really hear him. The music was blaring too loudly.

Which is why — no matter how much I disavow my love of anything else 80s — whenever this song comes on the radio now, I do the exact same thing.

Happy birthday, Dad.


I'm here. I like stuff. Some other stuff, I like less.

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One comment on “Happy Birthday
  1. G says:

    This is a sweet story. Thanks for sharing it with us.

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