Today is Dad’s birthday. He would have been 82. The wish today was the same as it has been every day since he passed three and a half years ago. I wish I could have one more day with him. One more conversation. One more NYT Mini Crossword. One more joke, where I would laugh hysterically until tears rolled down my face.
In a work meeting today, my colleague mentioned he was experimenting with an AI (artificial intelligence) illustrator, and showed me some pictures he had generated. He asked me to give it a go. I requested “a tall dark-haired adult woman in a floral dress with her silver-haired father in khaki pants and a blue flannel shirts, looking at a waterfall in the modern tradition.” One of the results struck me. It could have been us, on a hike, if the man had a little less hair and the woman had a little more height. Happy birthday, Dad.
6 thoughts on “Just One More Day”
Sweet, Lori. I paused and pondered your dad when I came across his name listed in FB birthdays for August 15. I miss him also; such a kind, thoughtful, truly unique man.
Thank you, Anne. It’s so nice to hear when others remember him as well.
This really hit home. My dad died seven years ago, right before his 77th birthday – August 16. He would have been 84 today. He went way too soon. I’d give anything for one more day. One more belly laugh. One more watching an old classic together. He loved Westerns and spy novels. Thank you for all your beautiful words, always. They live on through us.
Oh, Dani. My heart goes out to you. It never gets easier, does it?
We all need one more day – but don’t realise it. Thanks.