Happy Birthday Dad.. Why I hadn’t said anything..

On his birthday I had posted a picture of the small little cake that we’d got him (he would have obviously frowned on anything bigger..). He’d made his internet debut with that on his 76th birthday.

Happy Birthday Dad..

I happened to show it to him the other day..

In what is the characteristic super eloquence that Father’s normally reserve for their sons, looking up from his reading with just the faintest of nod’s he managed a “oh good”, looked at it for a few seconds and then went back to his reading.

In turn with the characteristic eloquence and show of “cool” that normally son’s reserve for their father’s, I managed a “yup” with a shrug of my shoulders.

I quite suspect he had wanted to say a lot more than that..

I definitely had a lot more to say than what I had managed..

I wanted to tell him that cake actually stood for all the goodness that he had blessed us with all throughout, the abundance he had striven to provide for us all his life.

The beauty and sweetness he had filled our lives with.. the many birthday’s he made sure we celebrated with everything we wished for..

Those candles standing for how he’d led his life, himself burning, sacrificing, making sure darkness never touched our lives.

That was my way of saying thank you to him, telling him I was proud…

But am I actually going to say all this to him.. have him read this post even?

Naaah.. because then he’d be embarrassed, and then Id be embarrassed, and everything would be a little awkward and then we wouldn’t know what to do..

I guess some thing’s are best left unsaid..

They are best, just felt!