Dear Dad,

Your eyes flashed the colors of a summer storm.
Thunder rolled along the pink of your mouth.
Your shadow filled our home whether you were with it or not.
All this hurricane in one man.

But as terrifying as the clouds of my childhood could be at times, you were the sky.
How I miss the steady blue firmament of your presence in my life.
Today, somewhere out there in the nebula, you’ve turned 92 years old.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Love,
AnnMarie