I missed my father's birthday.
I had been thinking about it constantly for about a week. It's not hard to remember because it's always around Easter. So his birthday lodged itself in my mind, nagging incessantly. "Don't forget!" it hummed every few minutes. Saturday came and the first thought when I woke is "It's my dad's birthday." I turned to my love and remarked, "It's my dad's birthday. I have to call him." (His birthday was actually Sunday, but he lives in Japan and they're ahead of us in time.)
I spent the day working on my websites and checking email. The hum plagued me the whole day. I decided I would call him late in the my evening since he was probably playing golf. I spent all day and night on my sites (including this one). I was inspired and pouring all of my creative energies into their care and creation. My eyes started to droop and I decided that I had enough. I shut down everything and went to bed. Without calling.
The next morning when I woke up, the first words out my mouth were "Oh shit! I forgot my dad's birthday!" There were other words mingled in there, but you get the idea. I scourged myself and moped around in the morning. What a lolohead! Again, I waited until later in the day to call him. The time came and I called him at work.
And then we talked about golf. He taught me at an early age, and I've always appreciated that. I don't think I was the best of students, but I loved being on the course.
I mailed him a birthday card. It's a card that you send someone when you've missed their birthday. It's a "smart ass" card. I'm sure that this card will prove that I love him and that I'm really sorry that I missed his birthday. I think people really appreciate it when you become a smart ass instead of apologizing.
Well, anyway ...
Happy Birthday, Dad!