Happy Birth -er Yesterday

Yesterday was my Dad's birthday. Last year this time, he was recovering from heart surgery, so when I asked him what he would like to receive as a gift, his response was "another birthday." I couldn't personally deliver this gift, but it appears as if Someone else did. Thanks! We appreciate it! This year he is the picture of health. They took him off the Plavix. His cholesterol and blood pressure are under control. If you have ever met this man, you would most definitely NOT think that he had a hidden heart problem. This is a guy who doesn't eat a lot of vegetables (he would say: "But I drink my V8 every morning".. low sodium of course!), but doesn't tend to eat TOO much crap either. My mom tries to keep him eating right. This is a man who works out on a regular basis, walks a couple of miles a couple of times per week, spends EVERY weekend from April until October, when it is warm enough hiking, camping and waterskiing. He snow skis at least once a year. He is the picture of health. Not the person they show you in the "Welcome to Angina" video. How did we find out he had a heart issue? He couldn't walk the 3/4 mile to the hardware store without stopping to rest. He had to Sit Down on the side of the highway. This man barely sits to watch TV. Hell, I think I hear him running laps while he's sleeping sometimes. So, for him to have to sit during a walk was really scary. We did suspect something a few months before that. We (by we I mean everyone but me, because I was way pregnant) were running one mile each for the Nebraska State Games. When he was done with his mile, he looked grey and sickly. He looked so bad that we had this conversation:

Me: "How does your left arm feel?"

Dad: "What the HELL does my left arm have to do with anything?"

I'm beginning to ramble now, so I'll move on. Dad. Happy Birthday. Thanks for shopping with me today. Thanks for being such a great Dad to me; a wonderful Grandpa to the baby; beause I know you really don't have to. Here's to hoping you have another 21 (that's how old the waitress tonight guessed you were, right?) years at least left in ya. Because no matter what you think, getting old is definitely better than the alternative.