What I Did on My Dad's Birthday

Last Sunday would have been my dad's birthday. My dad died in 1994, my grampa in 1997.   Seems the women of the family are longer-lived than the men.  So we women went to the cemetery to pay our respects, shed a few tears and laugh over fondest memories.  The weather was perfect, not too cold, and the rain had stopped.  In fact, the ground was perfect for adding a couple flowers and butterflies near the headstones.

Afterwards, we went across the street to a little German restaurant and again shared our favorite memories as we drank a toast to both my dad and my grampa.  Here we are, the women in the family, all but my granddaughter.

My mom is seated on the left (she'll be 80 this year).  My gram is on the right--she's 102 years old.  My daughter is on the right behind Gram, and my youngest sister (in red) will be 50 this year.  Although I miss my dad still (and Grampa), I am blessed to still have my mom and gram, and I really believe that God gifted me (and my mom) with a daughter to take dad's place.