Happy Birthday, Daddy

Mom celebrated her 85th birthday on August 20th.

Dad didn't quite make it to his. He'd been looking forward to 85. He talked about it a lot.

Tomorrow is the day he'd have celebrated his 87th birthday, if only the planets had aligned correctly. If only things had gone right. If only...

Oh, that phrase! It's one of the worst phrases out there, isn't it?

If only...

Dad once told me it doesn't bode well to dwell on the past. Nothing and no one can take things back. There is no way to trigger a do-over.

That doesn't stop me from wanting one, though.

That doesn't stop anyone from wanting one.

But tonight, I'm going to be nostalgic without wishing for time to roll back and give us a different outcome.

I'm going to make a "Daddy Playlist" in celebration of his birthday, and hope that he's hearing his favorite songs from somewhere out there.

I'll start with this one. Dad used to sing it to Mom while we all cleaned up after dinner, strumming on his guitar and teasing her in between verses. It is one of the songs I grew up with, and I don't remember a time when I didn't know it.

"Hey, Good Lookin'...

"Yes, I mean you. Thanks for dinner. Oh, and...

"Whatcha got cookin'?

"Yeah, you just fed me, I know."

This song is the first song Dad ever taught me, and the first song I ever sang in public, with an audience of my parents' friends. I don't think I had even started school yet, and in retrospect it's a pretty odd choice for a little girl, but no one ever said we were conventional. I had no idea what a cheating heart might be, but I knew I loved old Hank, and I wanted to sing his song.

There was a lot of Hank Williams going on in our house, but he wasn't the only singer my father admired. He enjoyed Jim Reeves and loved singing this one:

I don't remember Dad ever singing this song, but he loved it and played it often.

It's actually hitting me right in the heart as I write this. It's hitting a bit too close to home tonight. Dad actually was called home right around suppertime.

Ouch. It hurts to remember things sometimes. I had a moment when I almost pulled this song off my list, but Dad did love it. So, it stays.

Eddy Arnold was another favorite, and this song was one Dad and Mom sang together pretty often. It's another song I don't remember ever NOT knowing.

I don't want to give men all the playtime here. Dad enjoyed listening to the ladies, too.

As a matter of fact, Dad had a celebrity crush, and Mom teased him about her. It broke his heart when she was killed. I was very young at the time, but I remember him talking about what a loss it was. Considering I wasn't quite three years old at the time, I'm reasonably sure that the conversation was one that was repeated whenever one of her songs played on the radio.

Dad was a coal miner's son, and he really liked this song, because he said it was something he could really relate to. He said it was a good lesson for us, knowing how much better we had it. We never went without shoes.

On the night before his death, Dad asked me to play Hank Williams. I played several songs for him, but the one he responded to was this one.

"You guys used to mess this up," he whispered.

"Yeah," I replied. "My eyes are still curly and my hair is still blue."

We laughed. In those last days, any memory was golden, and any little laugh was precious.

I miss you, Dad.

I love you, Dad.

Happy Birthday.