I'm guessing I was only six. You were on the evening shift a day before your birthday. Earlier in the day, Mom had gotten you a cake along with a little felt man that said "Happy Birthday Dad!". Sis & I were especially excited to surprise you. We had spent the whole day hyping ourselves up. The three of us scrambled to go to our positions in the dark living room when we heard you unlocking the gate. "Surpriseeeee!" We sang you a birthday song, had some cake & went to bed.

I was twelve. You were hospitalized at that time. It was near Christmas & caroling was going on. Somehow the nurses knew that it was your birthday & they sang you a birthday song. Mom told me you cried shortly after. I'd do the same too, considering everything that was going on. I'd wanted so much to be there for you, to hold your hand, to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But somehow, you've detached yourself from everybody, living in your own little bubble. I could no longer be your little girl.

3rd December. You would have been 48 today.
I miss you.