self portrait therapy

Today would have been my dad's 60th birthday. I should have been planning him a big surprise party with all of his friends. That's another dimension of grief I am leaning into: everything he misses now that he is gone. I am trying to still celebrate without him because I know he's here in spirit, in golden hour sunlight and the breeze that ran through my hair while I was taking these pictures in the backyard tonight. He said, "Thank you for honoring me on my birthday by doing something you love."

I'll always have my dad to thank for teaching me the value of chasing after your dreams and the things that bring you joy in life. He started learning how to fix cars at twelve years old and ran with it his entire life, eventually branching out to elevators and even airplanes right before he died. His death was my wake up call. I spent too much time neglecting the things I love, and life is too damn short to not chase your joy.

A lot of people spend so much time trying to not turn out like their parents, but in this case, I don't think it would be such a bad thing. My dad lived his life on his terms and didn't really give a crap about what anyone else thought. That's something I'm still inspired by every day. I'm still uncovering bits of his legacy left behind and that feels like the biggest joy of them all today.

Happy birthday, dad.