I try to imagine a softer...slower...gentler...grey-er version. A version that is wiser and more forgiving. The image I carry with me is of you as a young man. I try to imagine you old.
Today - we'd be celebrating your 80th birthday. We would.
We'd be gathering. We'd be honoring. We'd be roasting and toasting a long and healthy and full life. We'd be raising our glasses - and wishing you many more.
We would...if we could...if we had been given this gift. This most precious of all opportunity.
You resisted turning 50. You didn't want any part of it. You didn't want a party. You didn't want a celebration. You didn't particulary want anyone to stand up and applaud and make any sort of celebratory note.
Today - I'm wondering - why? Did you fear growing old? Did you not like the attention? Was it the quiet in you that resisted?
I wonder if you'd be skiing. Still. I wonder if you'd be out there with your camera - photographing the gentle beauty of the falling winter snow. I wonder if you'd be happy? I wonder if you'd be healthy? I wonder if you'd be proud - of all that you'd accomplished and all that you'd done? I wonder who it is...and all that you might have become?
It's hard to know whether we should celebrate this day...or we should grieve. There exists such a fine line between that moment of sorrow and that moment of joy.
Life goes on.
We're nothing and no one other than simple companions in life's storm.
We're all here. We're all remembering. We're all honoring. We're celebrating together - each in our own personal way. We're raising our glasses. We're roasting and toasting.
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In honor of what would have been my father's 80th birthday - I'm opening up and sharing this very personal project. A dialogue and conversation between myself and my father thru our shared art.
Feel free to join in and follow along.