I think my dad is probably the most deservedly happy man I know. He’s friendly, gracious, mischievous, and full of love.
Yesterday was the old man’s 59th birthday and his snowy beard was full of grins and chocolate cake.
Dad’s been getting crafty in his old age. I jumped in the car with him a few weeks back and he proudly announced that he’d just finished crocheting a hat. I’ve known him my entire life and he can still surprise me with a lumpy little hat as proof of his efforts.
He’s also knocked together a cluttered painting nook in the basement of his house where he’s imagined some beautiful landscapes, a handful of portraits, some whimsical jellyfish and a babe on a piano.
It’s because of my dad’s unwavering support and encouragement that I don’t ever do anything that makes much sense. He’s given me license to be happy.