Yesterday was Britton’s birthday. But it was also my dad’s. And my aunt’s! A lot of people were born on 1-23 apparently. We almost always would go out with whomever wanted to come out for Britton and my dad’s shared birthday. Usually we’d go to Farmer’s Inn, the local restaurant that has been in La Salle forever. I say forever, but it’s been around since before I was born because my parent’s brought me there on the way home from the hospital!

Happy Birthday Boys with Balloons

We go there because it’s good, inexpensive Mexican food, but also because they give you a free meal on your birthday. And with both Britton and my dad having the same birthday it was, as my dad would put it, a helluva a deal. Plus it gave us an excuse to get everyone all together. And sometimes at Farmer’s, they’d even give them each a balloon.

At Farmer’s with Britton’s family too

So, this year was hard. Quieter. Not as cheery as birthdays past. Britton and I went to Farmer’s with my mom for lunch on Saturday for Britton’s birthday since they are closed on Sunday, but it wasn’t the same without Dad.  It’s these moments that still make it so difficult to realize he’s really gone. No more shared meals at Farmer’s.  No more shared birthday cake. No more shared memories with him.

And, you know, Britton never acted jealous or resentful to share his birthday with Dad or vice versa. They both got along so well and were happy to be able to spend their birthdays together. There was no place they’d rather be.

Dad, my brother and Britton (look how young BK looks!) sharing a pie cake

Last night I was having a hard time reckoning with myself the fact that those days are gone. Life’s  just a little flatter without my dad. A little less vibrant. Just missing that little lively something that only Dad could bring.

I hope Britton and my aunt Laura had a lovely time on their birthdays. And on what would have been my dad’s 63rd birthday, I hope he knows I was thinking of him too.