[My wedding day locket, alongside my maternal grandmother’s pendant. Family means much, if not all, in this wedding day business, and it was comforting to have him nearby.]

Yesterday would have marked a certain someone’s 61st birthday, one that I would like to imagine that he would have celebrated with the same gusto he approached everything in life with. Or, he would have shunned the celebrations in order to focus on my mother’s 60th birthday, a mere four days later, this Thursday.

[Me, the tiny tike with the awesome hair cut. He: the eternal outdoorsman, always at home in plaids and really fantastic suspenders. Forester gear. Campbell River, Vancouver Island circa 1986.]

A man of many talents, namely making anyone and everyone feel welcome, at home, and to laugh. A lot. A lover of the outdoors, a master of the family road trip. A man that had hundreds [hundreds!] of people show up at his memorial when they heard of his passing, many of whom came out to show their appreciation for a man that loved his family, friends, community, fiercely, joyfully. One that would be dearly missed, and still is.

[Words to live by: “never take life too seriously!”]

I like to think that I’ve learned some of my most valuable lessons from him: that I’m able to do anything that I put my mind to, that it’s alright to make a mistake [but to never make the same mistake again], that family is worth more than money, that quality one-on-one time is important as a friend, spouse, parent, and finally– to give *great* hugs.

Happy birthday to the man that continues to inspire me, every day.