Seventy. It seems a little surreal. I guess I've never really given it too much thought, but it seems like an age associated with grandparents. Well, now it is an age associated with parents. One of them anyway. My Dad turns 70 today.
My grandpa was in his 70's when he passed away. I was a teenager then, but he always seemed like a little old man. I don't really have a changing picture of my grandpa. In my mind (and memory), he always kind of looked the same. At that time, I thought he was pretty old when he died. Now I don't think so. I see my other grandpa and Julie's grandma who are 90 now. It's weird, but that grandpa has always kind of looked the same too.
Maybe that's why I have a hard time seeing my Dad as 70. To me he is still the same guy who tied my skates, taught me to drive when I could barely reach the pedals, chopped and hauled wood, shoveled shit, fixed my cars and lawn mowers, and was always there when I needed him.
My Dad has had some health issues over the past several years. Quite a few years already I guess because he was forced to retire early for health reasons. To be perfectly honest, there were times when I didn't think my Dad would still be here. He probably wasn't that much older than me when he lost his Dad. It was Christmas morning and I can still see him crying when he got the news. I am not ready for that kind of news yet.
So Dad, if you're reading this, I want you to know how much I love you and appreciate you. I pray for you and thank God your still here. Happy birthday. And here's to many more. Later.
Sent from my iPhone