“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” – Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

 

Time is an interesting concept. Today is a day that marks a significant moment in my life. Many years ago, on this day, I was born into this world. As I grow older, I am reminded that each birthday is a precious gift and should be celebrated.

This weekend, I’m just not feeling the birthday cheer. It’s the eighth time my birthday has landed on a Saturday, and it always sends me on a trip down memory lane.

On a beautifully sunny birthday, I was enjoying a morning round of golf with two new friends in a new town. As we strolled off the green of our 12th hole and headed towards the 13th tee, a young man in a golf cart handed me an urgent note from the pro shop. Written in striking red ink, the note read, “Paramedics called. Call your mom at home.”

This was before cell phones became prevalent. As I was at the furthest point on the course from the clubhouse, I rode back to the clubhouse with the young man. While I did not know exactly what had happened, I knew this ride would be a turning point in my life.

As I reached the clubhouse, I called my mother and received devastating news. She informed me that my father had passed away and asked me to return home immediately. It was difficult to comprehend – I had just hugged him less than 12 hours before. It felt like a surreal and heartbreaking moment. The next day was Father’s Day.

I continue to feel a deep sense of sadness about my father not being here. I often find myself wishing he could have met my wife and sons, and for them to have had the opportunity to meet him.

Today feels like a significant turning point. My father has been absent from my life for as long as he was present. In recent years, I’ve pondered how I would feel. I can confirm that little has changed as I write this.

So forgive me if I don’t want to celebrate or play golf this weekend. Maybe I will have a shot whisky or glass of wine in his honor, but there won’t be a party.