81 Candles

Yet another year rolls by, another candle my father has earned, yet never again shall he be able to blow them out...

Today the 2nd of March, as every year, i find myself a little melancholy...though i fight through the day...i no longer find a solace in placing roses upon the marble rimmed plaque that mark where his earthly body remains...but more in the memories that the day provides...

Dad... do you remember the first time i ever made you a birthday cake? Remember how i stood at the oven door so impatiently for the cake to be done and was so upset that it had not risen an inch? I painstakenly made the icing, passionfruit, with the seeds included... and smiled through tears as you being you, laughed and blew out the candles anyway, saying that it was the best cake you had ever seen.
Remember how i promised to make the next birthday cake so much better? It rose, like a dream, though the icing, blue - was almost fluroescent it was so bright? Again you gave me praise like you have always done. It became tradition that i would make your cake, each year and thankfully they got better, though, slowly!. i have now mastered the art of cake making and can even make the icing the colour and shade i want it to be... you would be so proud.. though, im sure... you being you...no matter if it was hollow and sunken in the middle and resembled the colour of the mid day sun... you would love it... and eagerly blow those 81 candles out...

I miss making those cakes for you.. I miss you so much more.

Happy Birthday... i love you!