You would have been 51 today but instead you got stuck at 43. Well, let’s just count life’s ability to be kind, at least I’ll always remember you to be young.
It’s been so long and the smell of your perfume is now gone. It lingered the first few months but as people come and go and as we moved around, your Carolina Herrera scent drifted away too. It hasn’t stopped me from remembering vivid memories of you. The very elegant way you dress up even when it’s just work, your frantic ability to cook up a storm and your towering height that imposes and protects. And your discipline Pa, the way you want things to be and your stern ability to hammer it on us – that I can’t forget.
No one has cooked up a storm for years (I’ve been trying but to no avail, I can’t copy your caldereta), no male at home has dressed so elegantly – your son, unfortunately needs tutoring, and no one has towered on anyone given our heights are close to one another. But I want you to know that I gave discipline a try. I try to run the house as much as I can. Mom approaches me for advice and I’m proud to say she (occasionally) listens.
Things have significantly changed. Without you, we’ve led it in ways we think and feel is right. I’m not sure if you’ll agree, in case you get to see us, but know that we are trying our best.
On your birthday, I’m preparing a simple feast. Nothing like your grand celebrations; that includes a party that invites almost everyone that you’ve ever known. Yet it will be for you, for the good memories, for a gesture that says you are still a part of us and a memoir that speaks loudly of how much you are missed. I would have given you a card and a bauble fit for a dad but I don’t know where to send it.
Happy 51st birthday!