The Call That Won't Come: My First Birthday Without Dad

My birthday is approaching, and while I'm usually someone who loves celebrating with family and soaking in the little joys, this year feels different. He won't be calling.

Every year, without fail, I could count on hearing his voice--"happy birthday, Minkie!"It was simple, familiar, and wrapped in a love that only a dad can give. That one word, Minkie, held a lifetime of memories. It was his name for me, and his alone. That word held so much more than just a nickname--it was comfort, connection, and a lifetime of love all wrapped into two syllables. No one else will ever say it the way he did.

This will be my first birthday without that call. My first without the man who gave me so much of who I am. Since his passing in October, the world has kept spinning, my kids have kept growing, and life has kept moving--but part of me still feels frozen in the loss.

There's been so much change in the past year. So many moments since his passing that I've wanted to share with him--especially Brantley's milestones. Brantley and my dad shared a birthday, September 26th, something that felt like a beautiful full-circle moment. My dad adored Brantley. He called him "Bibi," and just the way he said it made it clear how deeply he loved him. I know he'd be so proud watching Bibi sit up on his own, starting to stand, and chasing us through the house in his walker with that big, all-consuming smile.

And now, as my own birthday comes closer, I find myself aching for something that can't be replaced. No voicemail. No "hey, Minkie." No laugh on the other end of the line. Just a quiet space where his voice used to be.

But even in the silence, I feel his love. I see him in the way I parent. I hear him in the words I say to my kids. I carry him with me--in the strength he taught me, the faith he showed me, and the way he loved me without condition.

This birthday will be hard, but it will also be full--of hugs from my babies, memories that live on, and love that not even death can take away.

"I thank my God every time I remember you." --Philippians 1:3

So this year, instead of a phone call, I'll whisper back to heaven: I miss you, Dad. I'll always be your Minkie. And your Bibi is making you proud every single day.

One of my favorite pictures of my dad and I