Yesterday was my birthday. And the first day of summer. And, as sometimes happens, Father's Day.
I always liked it when that happened because the party got bigger and more exciting, and I got to share the day with Dad.
He died in 1996 of cancer at age 65, and I miss him all the time, especially on a day like yesterday. I didn't celebrate a lot — we had a nice dinner and saw the a movie, Star Trek, which is still in one "original version" theater here in Madrid, and it was great adventurous fun, though I kept getting distracted by the Spanish subtitles, mentally arguing with some of the translations.
I would have done more if Dad were still around, though. Of course.