While most people in the country are thinking about the election today, all I can think about is that fact that is my dad were still alive, today would have been his 60th birthday.  My dad died on the day after Thanksgiving last year, and I miss him a lot.  I'm sad today because I know my mom would have planned a big celebration for his milestone birthday, and I can imagine the two of them enjoying the day together. 

My dad was a poet and an artist who got caught in the difficulties of raising a family and having to work too hard.  He'd been building his own carpentry workshop for as long as I can remember, collecting the necessary tools and supplies over the years, all in preparation for when he'd finally be able to retire.  Instead, the workshop sits unused save the once-stray cat who has now found kitty paradise within.  I wonder sometimes if the cat, we call her Shop Cat due to her home, misses the way he'd save her half and half from restaurants and feed her warm oatmeal in the mornings.  (He fed that to the cats who lived in the house, too). 

My dad would be proud of the life I'm living, since I'm following my dreams and making them reality, so I take comfort in that, but it's still sad to know that he wasn't around for my first gallery sale, won't get to meet my future mates, won't live to see his grandchildren, and won't get to read my first published novel (if I ever finish the dang thing... doh!).  I don't know if he's watching over me, but I like to imagine him back in Scotland, where he grew up, staring at the ocean and imaging the life he'd create in America.

Loss is an inevitable part of life, and with the pain comes strength once you've pushed through.  So while everyone else in the country is watching the election results, I'll be thinking about my dad.  Blessed be.