Full of Jive....

My dad's birthday is today. He would be 57. Birthdays were always kind of a big deal. There were balloons, and cakes, and presents. At least if you were dad. Here's just a glimpse into one of his earlier birthdays. He looks pained to have to open all these presents, doesn't he? Please note the dot matrix printer "Happy Birthday" banner in the background. And let's quickly discuss where Dad's children get their dorkiness from. I am pretty sure that's an old school robot on his birthday cake, yes? Yes. 

Dad had been not doing well for the few months before his 55th birthday. They hadn't recommended bringing him home, but thought that we should leave him in a nursing home. Mom, being the bull-headed (and amazing) woman she is told them no way. She would bring him home, she would fill him with home-cooking and surround him with things and people that he loved. He hadn't spoken much, but came home the day before his 55th birthday. He had lost over 100 pounds since his journey began 13 months before that. He had a feeding tube, and wasn't really eating much by mouth. In the ambulance, riding home, my mom reminded him it was his birthday the next day and asked him what he wanted on his birthday cake. He wanted his cake to read exactly as she made sure it did the next day. (The piece missing was cut immediately for him, we didn't take it - promise!) 

That's right, he said "I'm 55, still alive, and full of jive." And he was. He grew stronger, he lived for another 14 months with us. He thrived, he laughed, he mocked us, he shook his fist in frustration in our direction, he made us make cheese plates at all hours of the night, he didn't dance the jive - but he was full of it. And let's be fair - he wouldn't have danced the jive even if he could have. 

Last year, we kept the tradition going for his birthday: 

This will be our first birthday without Dad. It will be hard. We won't want to celebrate it with balloons or running boards for his truck (that was what was in the huge present years ago) - but I am thinking we will, in his honor, make some zombie cupcakes. And we'll still celebrate that he was born, that we got to cherish all our moments with him, that we were gifted an awesome dad, friend, spouse, co-conspirator, and ...well, we will have more cake without him here. I think we may have it read: Fifty-Seven and Laughing From Heaven. 

And don't worry, we'll save you a piece, Dad. 

Edit: I have the best mom, ever. Look at the cake she picked up.