This post first appeared two years ago. In memory of a wonderful Daddy.
He wasn't a beer drinker. But he loved a good commercial and in the past couple of years, he'd spent more time accruing a file of 30 second spots that peaked his interest. From his teenage years, he had been fascinated by products and sales, influenced by two glamorous older sisters and their love of fashion and life, during and after the war.
Four years ago today, after his doctor's appointment, he wanted an Oyster Po-Boy and a Bud-Light. At the time, we all got a kick out of the request which he said was fueled by all the beer commercials during the NFL play-off games he watched with my mother. She was the football fanatic and he just went along for the fun.
The birthday feast began when I picked them up in a parking lot. I didn't even have a present because Christmas had just ended but I did run and get a card. And he said his new Christmas Charcoal merino wool vest was so nice it could count for birthday too. And he was wearing it for his birthday, number 76.
The oyster po-boy was okay but he said he'd never get another Bud-Light again. He didn't. It was a bright but very cold January day when I took them back to their car. We got out and exchanged hugs. We had enjoyed a brief but fun lunch, talking about commercials and such. And three days later, he left us in a quick and peaceful ending.
I wrote the following piece on my first Father's Day without him. Thank you for indulging me this happy birthday tribute.