Hi Dad,

 

If you could know what goes through my head now, I want to tell you I remember your birthday.  It would have been your 83rd birthday today, only if you have lived long enough to ask Noah and Bradley to blow out the candles on your cake for you.  Yes, I remember today, but then... I really miss celebrating your birthday.  It has been 90 days since you left us. 

 

> Our family's last Thanksgiving was not the same.  Unlike previous gatherings, where you sat at the end of the table with mom, where everyone took turns telling you stories, there was not a lot of stories told last Thanksgiving when you weren't in that chair.  Dad, I didn't remember you ever said much at the table, it was mostly us talking.  But if you basically just sat there listening, how come we felt such a void when you were not there?  I think the person who felt it the most was mom.  She didn't even want to sit down.  At some points, we saw her eyes got red and her dabbing them.  I guess it was hard for mom to get used to not having you around after 60 years.  We kids went on like normal, or at least we tried to, knowing full well it will never be the same normal again. Yes, we all felt the physical vacancy as we wished there could be some kind of morphine to numb the pain in our hearts.

 

Each of us grieved and mourned your loss in our own way.  But I tell you dad, I thought I would never see the guys in our family cry,... until you died!  By now, we found out that the biggest cry baby of all was chị Vỹ.  As for me, I acted really cool when around people, but I missed you the most when I walked the dogs.  Sometimes I just sobbed, out of the blue, like a helpless orphan feeling so lost in the world or so full of self-pity for losing the most precious possession.  Isn't that the weirdest thing, dad?  I am 52, not a little kid, not a helpless orphan!

 

I got in the habit of saying rosaries for you while walking around the neighborhood.  But half the time, my mine was not on the actual prayers but kept wandering back to the time when you stayed at our house.  I missed waking you up for breakfast and doing little things for you.  I missed lingering around the dinner table listening to your stories about life back in VN.  I missed the positive vibes you brought to our lives despite the sufferings you had to endure.  As your body got weaker and weaker, your mind and your spirit became stronger and stronger.  Even when you knew your days were numbered, you didn't want to leave us.  You were so looking forward to the next chemo round, no matter how painful, hoping it would be the actual miracle cure.  You didn't want to leave us because you loved us so much.  You were willing to fight the leukemia battle at any cost,...just to stay with us.  I remembered your face when the doctor said there was no more effective treatment available.  That was clearly your saddest day.  To lose hope, for you, was worst thing ever!

 

Would you have a birthday party in heaven today dad?  Or would your new birthday be September 16th from now on in your new life?  Whatever it is, we want to celebrate your life and remember your death every year, for you not only gave us life, you taught us how to live, how to fight for your life, and how to surrender to God's will with grace and peace.

 

Happy Birthday dad.  We will always love you.

 

Huyen