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Monday, October 15, 2007
I kept seeing today's date
and wishing you Happy Birthday, Dad. I thought about going out and having a chocolate bar to celebrate your birthday. The first thought that struck me was "You are supposed to be dieting." The second thought I had was "I am still mad about that damned Hershey bar you had the day before you died." That freakin' thing just pissed me off.
Everyone talked about a heart attack, but I read a receipt for a big-assed Hershey bar and the words "complications of diabetes mellitis" on your death certificate.
I know what you were thinking. Chocolate fixes a lot of things. In this case, it both fixed and broke you all at once. I'm still sad about that stupid candy bar.
When it was time to get you ready to go, I didn't know what to do. I made sure that you had your cowboy boots on, and I spit shined them. I tucked a picture from your birthday in your wallet-the one we took two years ago, with you and all the girls. I've never seen you look prouder. Dang, I wish I had a copy of that photo, it was my favorite. Here is another photo from that day.
I am really glad we had the party, glad we surprised you, glad we all squished into the studio at Walmart and took the picture (hey, who's the round-eye in the picture?) glad everyone showed up on time and played well. If you are only going to have one birthday party, that's the kind to have.
Evelyn wanted to know: I am the exhausted woman at the lower right.