And then I realized.

I've got a few friends going through some deep shit right now.

I'd like to think that I am strong for them; that the advice I give, the experiences I share, maybe helping them see something good in something not so great will help them along.

I'd hope they don't see the part of me that breaks down and cries for a few minutes in the grocery store.  The part of me that isn't always strong; the part of me that is, well, human.

It wasn't a big thing.  I'm riding in a bike ride this weekend; the largest National MS Society Bike Tour in the nation, the Houston to Austin MS150.  I can't say that I am directly affected by Muscular Sclerosis, that is to say that I really don't know someone personally that is affected by such an unpredictable things.  So, this year, when I registered, I signed up for a program they have where they hook you up with a MS Survivor.  You have the opportunity to ride for them.

I have on my page that I ride for those that can't.  I had forgotten that I had signed up for a BIKE MS CHAMPION this year.  It surprised me when I got my ride materials.  A bandana that I will wear proudly was in my stuff, signed by Karen.  She lives in La Porte, on the East side of Houston.  This is my 5th year for this ride. I just realized it's different for me this year.

I went to the grocery store in search of Raspberry Kool-Aid brand koolaid.  It was the best suggestion, I think, of the ideas presented by others to color my beard blue.  Not permanently blue, but blue, but not wash-out blue, at least not immmediately wash out, but wash outable sometime. Actually, not really caring if it washed out or not, just as long as it didn't make a big blue mess.  After finding the Kool-aid, I just wandered around for a bit, looking down the empty aisles (I guess people are doing taxes?), picking up a few things. 

Then I realized that my friend Suz has a birthday tomorrow.  Well, I will tell you that if you know me, I'm terrible at birthdays, and if I remembered yours, it's either on Facebook, or in my phone.  I'm even more terrible at birthday cards, but, on the way out of the store, I'm headed down the aisle of cards. 

Well. So many choices. I always have issues with cards.  If i don't find one right off the bat, then, sorry, you probably aren't getting one from me.  Too bad.  Deal.  Usually you should consider yourself lucky if I remember to tell you at all, and double lucky if I'm on the right day.  Well, I should count success.  At least Suz' card will be mailed on the day of, "that's not too late is it?" I tell myself. 

And then I realized.

Monday is Dad's birthday. 

Now you would think that I would remember his birthday.  Well, I know it's in April, but for many years I regretfully admit the exact day has evaded me.  And, unless I was reminded directly in front of, I missed it.  Especially when I no longer lived at home.

After the fourth card I read for Dad, and they weren't applicable, I wept.  I'm glad I was alone.  And I'm glad I'm alone now, too.

I realized awhile ago that Dad is waiting.  For those that know, Dad is not in the best physical shape.  Since Mom passed, there's not really any will.  Not really any happiness. Not really any joy.  Not any motivation.  Just do the routine, just waiting. 

Well, I did find a card.  It was the 11th one I found, and I think it fits better than most:  "A birthday is the start of another 365 day journey around the Sun - Enjoy the ride."  I sure hope so.  I hope there's at least a few more journeys around the Sun. 

Maybe after riding 83 miles on Saturday, and 77 on Sunday, maybe i'll find the strength on Monday to make a drive to see Dad on his birthday. Maybe I need it as much as he does.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  Many more to come.