Fake Plastic Trees

My birthday is on Friday.  I can't really say whether or not I'm looking forward to it.  You'd normally call me, sing me happy birthday, talk about my goals, ask me if I feel older.  We'd talk about how I'm 27 and you would have been 77 and how one day Pia will be 77.  I showed Pia a video of you today!  I haven't mustered up the courage to watch a lot of the videos but I thought it was better late than never.  You laughed in the video and Pia watched you and smiled almost like you were right there.  What I'd give to watch you hold Pia and walk with her around the yard, show her the cats, tell her about the flowers and trees.  I think about you, wonder where you are, if you can see me, hear me crying because I miss you.  I know you wouldn't want me to cry but it's hard not having you here.  I need your help, I think more than help I just need you.  I need you to bake on Saturdays again with me, I need you to sit down with me at breakfast while we talk about the news.  I want to have coffee with you and talk about the cats and boo and mom and Leila and Alan and everyone else important to us.  I wanna hear you yell at me to take a damn yoga class because I stress too much.  I want to feel you swat me in my head because it's so damn hot.  I want you to sing me happy birthday while you smile crookedly and adjust your glasses while waving those long slender fingers at me motioning to me to blow out all my candles and make a wish.  I miss you, my birthday won't be the same.  Where ever you are, drop by if you can, I'd really love it if you could.  Miss you, all the time.