We had the opportunity to celebrate my dad’s birthday this past Sunday. Because he’s not all ‘don’t talk about my age’ like my mom is, I’ll share that he turned 62. It ain’t nothin’ but a number.

I looked all over Meijer (let me just note that I despise card shopping at Meijer or anywhere other than a Hallmark-carrying store) and found a card I knew CJ would appreciate for grandpa. I couldn’t find one that included the right words, to be honest. I could write an entire post about the struggle to find the right card. This would not be the first time for me.

Anyway, I wrote him a note inside the card that I hoped could capture even an ounce of what I wished to communicate. I’ve always been known as a daddy’s girl and I’m not ashamed of that. My dad and I are kindred spirits, in a sense. I get him and I think (or hope) most of the time that he gets me.

In the card, I shared that I so appreciate his continued love and support and of course, never tire of him wanting to help me with every little project I attempt. One of the sweetest things he did for me when we moved into our new place was get a set of tools that I could use. He put them all in a big storage container and asked Connor to write “Connor’s toolbox” on the cover. I think the moment was truly special for all of us.

I also shared that it’s okay to let me fail. As parents, we want to protect our children in every way but at some point, we have to let them go. It’s not easy (I feel like I’ve already had to do this a bit with Connor, in a sense), but it is necessary. I know both my parents want to protect me from some of my current pain, but since I’m technically a grown-up beginning this new chapter, I’m going to have to do my best to get through it … alone.

And, what a lot of people don’t see, is the amazing son that my dad is. He’s been taking care of my grandma since my grandpa died and I can’t even begin to describe how difficult that’s been for him. It’s devastating enough to watch her dementia progress, but as a child, I can assure you it’s more difficult to watch my dad have to experience that. She is his mom and she needs him in ways that sometimes a child would need a parent … and that’s hard. But, he’s doing it. He visits her consistently; makes sure she gets ready and comes to church almost every Sunday and even buys her days of the week socks. His dad would be so proud and I can only pray that someday I can be such a good daughter to him.

So, to my dad, you are loved beyond what you could ever understand. We are so lucky that God chose you to be our dad. I also thank God he didn’t make you perfect because I wouldn’t know what the heck to do with a parent I couldn’t relate to. We love you, Ozzie.