In an alternate universe, you would have turned 70-years-old today – three score years and ten! But in my universe, you are Forever 55. Your last birthday picture at 55 almost didn’t happen because I was too busy preparing to fly to England the next day. It was our teenage daughter who made sure we got you your own personal cheesecake and sang to you. I forgive myself for not knowing it would be your last birthday and am forever grateful to our daughter every time this day comes around. She reminded me to value and celebrate the precious moments.
Like Robert Frost’s poem, ‘The Road Not Taken’, our universe diverged the day you died, and we had to create another world in order to move forward. The day you were born, however, is always a cause for celebration even in this parallel universe, because it means we got to experience your love and love you while you lived. Since you’ve been gone, our children have all married, and three more grandchildren have been born, two of them bearing your name. I see bits of you in all of them and I am grateful for the gifts you gave us. I imagine how we would be celebrating your milestone birthday today. It’s a little bit like dreaming the impossible, because our whole world and the people in it changed, as did we, and you will be Forever 55.
Happy heavenly birthday, Mike, from our parallel universe to yours.