This year my father's birthday falls on the same day as Thanksgiving. That happened often during his lifetime, I'm sure. How nice to have your birthday around the time when your family was most likely to be all together.
He's been gone nine years now, but we think and talk about him often.
Interestingly enough as we were packing for our move to our new home, Mr. Tennis came across this:
A card given to us by my parents. My dad wrote the note and he and my mother both signed it.
At first I thought it was to wish us well when we bought the house we just left in Orlando, but then I saw my father's little drawing down in the corner of his parakeet, Bleu. (Of course my father, loving all things French had to spell his budgie's name in French).
I realized then that this was actually a card wishing us well in our very first home we bought as newlyweds in 1982. Somehow Mr. T had put it into his files and then rediscovered it as he packed up his office.
How appropriate that we would find it as we prepared for one of our biggest adventures and arrival at our new home. It made me feel that my parents were smiling down on us and rooting for us, just as they did all our married life.
Happy Birthday to my father and Happy Thanksgiving to the rest of our family and all our friends, old and new. I am thankful for you all.