the old saying about march's weather has always held a special meaning in our family. my father's birthday is the first of march... mine is the 31st. i remember how predictably my father would chase me and my brother through the house on his birthday roaring "in like a lion!" - no matter what the weather.
when we were little, every weekend at the beach, my father dug huge holes in the sand complete with places to sit and a level surface on which to eat our lunch. my father wasn't a big man, but he was a strong man. i remember clinging to him in the deep surf, buffeted by waves, or floating like a starfish, arms and legs stretched out to the sun, my head supported on his shoulder, when the water was calm.
if my mother encouraged me to write my stories down - because she was the one who loved all things literary - it was my father who taught me to tell them. every saturday, when my mother headed off to the hairdresser's, my father cooked us pancakes and told us stories he made up. the old lion may be slowing down, but his stories still hold the rapt attention of another generation of little girls.
so happy birthday, daddy - i may have found Prince Charming, but you'll always be king of my heart.
and furthermore, the war WILL end. blessed be.