Today is my dad’s birthday. I called to wish him this morning and asked if he was excited about the big day. He chuckled in his usual dad way and said it really isn’t an accomplishment, it just happens, it’s just another day. So that’s my dad, a very practical man who loves numbers and finding good deals.
As a kid I secretly wanted to be just like him. I read his Reader’s Digests and architectural magazines cover to cover so that he and I could “discuss” the jokes and the latest decorating trends. Mind you, I was like 6 at this time, but he lovingly “discussed” anyway. I happily watched the news with him while my sister and mom bickered about watching more interesting stuff. We read the Sunday paper together on the front porch while the rest of the family was still in bed. I declared myself dad’s favorite long time ago, although he makes no such claims of favoritism. My sister agrees with me unsurprisingly.
A travel addict, he never let having a family stop him from globe trotting. He just took us in tow and gave my sister and I fond memories of vacations to Europe, Nepal, and within India. His travel bug has certainly rubbed off on both his daughters. What hasn’t rubbed off is his ability to never complain. I don’t know how he does it, but I can’t sleep unless I’ve bitched about at least 5 things per day.
He is an emotional guy who tries very hard not to show it. When Devang asked me to marry him, we woke him up in the middle of the night to show the ring and give the good news. Instead of hugging us, he thanked Devang and shook his hand on finally making the move. I stood their laughing till he eventual gave us a bear hug.
Over the years, he and I have had our fair share of disagreements too. But I freeze when I find myself repeating the same things he said to me, to my nephews. I am turning into my dad in more ways than one.
So, Dad, it’s not just another day for us. It’s your birthday. Happy Birthday.