The kids bus isn’t running this week. Which means I get to take them and pick them up. Bus drivers are a hot commodity around here. It’s definitely a job that takes a special kind of person. Pre Covid I’ll be the first to admit that I took the transportation to and from school for granted. Thank God I have a job with the insane flexibility that allows me to come and go like I do.
My dad would have been 70 years old today. February 8th 1952. When I was in the hospital having Morgan, they decided that they needed to do a c-section. I had been in labor for over 20 hours. That was music to my ears. They couldn’t know k me out fast enough. My baby girl, his first grandchild, was born of February 7th 1999 at 11:25pm. For the last 23 years he has reminded me that if I could have just held another 35 minutes they’d have the same birthday, 1/2 kidding of course.
I want my kids to celebrate my dad. We decided as a family that we would get a cake and sing Papa happy birthday. I swear I could feel him smiling. I never had to wonder if he loved me, or if he was proud of me. He made both very clear.
Tonight I got out with Anna for our weekly Pickleball Class. I was prepared today. I had my own paddles, my water and a sports bra on. I still have no idea how to keep score. It’s really nice to have somewhere to go and blow off the stink.
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