March 1 marks my parents’ wedding anniversary: They would have been married 60 years today.
March 2 is my dad’s birthday: He would have turned 81. An inconceivable concept.
And, he passed away on March 13, 1990, at the far too young age of 53. It’s been 28 years since cancer robbed Denny—and the rest of us—of what could have and should have been.
While we didn't get to live out his golden years with him, I'd like to believe my father lives on, forever, somewhere. I envision him doing his crossword puzzles, drinking wine, and playing some amazing golf on a perpetually green and golden course.
Tonight, I raise my glass and wink at him.
How do you choose to remember loved ones whom you've lost? Any memories you'd like to share to carry on their legacy?