Ode to Dad--from your delinquent daughter

So we all know October 1 comes around every year. The day changes, but certainly the date doesn't.
And in my family this date is particularly important because it's my Dad's birthday.
Happy Birthday Dad!! I love you (despite what this post reveals).

The thing is, my nieces have a birthday at this time of year as well. And there's been a lot going on with my Dad so I've definitely been talking with him frequently. I should also say, that birthdays for my nieces include gifts where as my parents I typically just send a card.

So last weekend I made sure my nieces gifts were wrapped, packaged, and sent away. I hate to disappoint them. In the back of my mind, I knew I had to get my Dad's card yet.
Much to my surprise, it was Saturday, my nieces very birthday, when I woke up thinking, oh no. Dad. I need to get his card.
Ever the optimist, I tho't, well, I'll get it to the post office today and it will still get to Seattle over the weekend.

I worked Saturday morning because we hold occasional weekend college classes here at Spring Arbor. Then I met my friend Robin downtown and one walk led to another downtown and eventually to lunch. It shocked me to realize the time was 2:30 when I rolled into my driveway.

Only, I didn't roll in, because I remembered. AH!! Dad...
so I kept down the road to my favorite card purchasing place conveniently located just a few blocks from the post office. Only, when I got in the parking lot I was met by one of the workers who informed me that they had no electricity and so they were closed. (I had noticed the traffic lights were out which should have been my first clue.) Panicking, yet still positive, I headed across the street to the local grocery store and received the same electricity-challenged story.
Refusing to be put out, I remembered I had cards in my purse. Not birthday ones, but I could make a greeting for him none the less. So I hurried down the street to the post office. Thankfully the postal worker was still retrieving the mail. I parked where I could keep my eyes on the truck and feverishly wrote significant and loving words to honor my Dad.
As you can well imagine, I was so caught up in that process, I neglected to see the postal vehicle leave the parking lot. I literally chased after it but alas, in the lack of electricity with all the traffic signals serving as four way stops, I couldn't catch it.
Defeated, I returned home. Only to see MY mail carrier was still on the street. Renewed enthusiasm burst through me until I realized I didn't have a stamp. I raced into my house, flung a stamp on my hastily addressed envelope, and scurried after "my" mail carrier.
I practically threw myself on my knees begging her to take my precious letter. She looked at my oddly as if to say, it's not a problem. That's what I'm here for.

Lady, you have no idea what kind of day I've been having.

So, dear Dad, when your delinquent daughter's poor wee card arrives in your mail box, know that there was a lot of love and energy behind it. And yes, I'll do better next year!

Oh, and did I mention, that when I opened my own mail box, that a birthday card FROM my parents awaited me there? Since my birthday is tomorrow? I so failed as a decent daughter!!