Ok, I get it, I haven’t been true to what I said I would do, blogging every day about my weight loss and other issues. The truth is that I’ve been logging in often, staring at the blank white screen with a cluttered mind and haven’t been able to put any real or deep thoughts together. So tonight I thought I would indulge those who have waited ever so patiently.
Tomorrow I turn 31. Nothing big about turning 31. But for the last 13 years birthdays have taken a new meaning for me. They are bittersweet. Memories of birthdays that weren’t painful are long forgotten. You see I was born on March 1, 1980, which just so happened to be my dad’s 24th birthday. Growing up I loved that we shared a birthday, it was something special that linked us together even closer. We always celebrated together. For the last 13 years, though, I’ve often wondered why we shared a birthday, when God knew all along how it would end, with a broken heart.
I still struggle to understand at times. The dreams still haunt me. I wonder if it will always hurt this much. I’m not angry or bitter anymore, and I think I have forgiven him, which I guess is to say I still struggle with that one. I still feel guilty at times and wonder if I did enough. I wonder how he could do this to me and why I wasn’t enough for him to still be here. I miss him so much I can’t breath sometimes. I look at my kids and think about all he is missing with them. I wonder if he had left a note by the bed what it might have said, and if he had a second chance would he do it again. I guess I’ll never know.
Happy Birthday Dad, I love and miss you more than you will ever know.
Michael David O’Neal
March 1, 1956~November 29, 1997