(my concept but AI made it look better)

Happy Birthday, Dad

This year, your birthday falls on Labor Day.

And like so many years since you passed away, I find myself thinking about all the moments that have been missed.

You never got to meet or know Tim. He’s an amazing young man, and I know you would be so proud of him. He has your eyes. I’m reminded of you every time I look into them.

So much life has happened in the 24 years since you’ve been gone.

There are many things I’m sure you would be glad you weren’t here to see. But there are also so many things I wish you could have been here for. Milestones. Memories. Changes. The ordinary, everyday moments that somehow become the most important ones.

Life was never easy with you, Dad. There were things that happened that left wounds, and there were things I didn’t understand when I was younger.

But through it all, all of us kids still loved you.

And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand something I couldn’t fully see back then—you had a hard life, too.

You lived through things that most people probably wouldn’t have been able to survive, and somehow, you did. The things you experienced shaped you. They impacted the way you lived, the way you loved, the way you responded to life, and so many of the choices you made.

Looking back now, I can see some of that much more clearly.

That doesn’t erase the hard things. It doesn’t change the things that hurt. But understanding more about what shaped you has given me a different perspective. I can hold the good and the painful memories together and simply say, You were my dad, and I loved you.

I often wonder what you would think of my life now.

I wonder what you would say about Tim. I wonder what you would think about the woman I’ve become. I wonder about all the conversations we never got to have.

I pray that you are in Heaven celebrating your 77th birthday with your mom—the woman you loved so much and talked about so often with us kids.

I wish I had known her.

I hope she is there, too, and that someday, when I get to Heaven, I’ll finally have the chance to meet her.

One thing I’m especially grateful for is the Cherokee heritage you and she gave me.

Knowing who you are and where you come from is important. It’s a part of my story—a part of where I came from—and I’m thankful to carry that with me.

Twenty-four years is a long time.

Yet sometimes it feels like yesterday.

There will always be things I wish had been different. There will always be questions I wish I could ask. And there will always be moments when I wish you were here.

But today, on your birthday, I choose to remember.

I remember the good.

I acknowledge the hard.

I’m grateful for the life you gave me.

And I love you, Dad.

Happy 77th Birthday.

Until we meet again.