Birthday Bomb

Every birthday in my life, I have shared it with my Dad. He and I shared November 29th as our Earthly Birthday. This year is the first birthday I will celebrate without him. He passed into Eternity last March 31st. There was only one year that I missed my birthday being with him on our day: when I was working in Florida in 2005. I called him, and we had a great conversation.

A little over a year ago, Dad asked my brothers and me what we wanted from his estate after he passed away. I said I wanted his Birthday Bomb. Let me explain what that is. During World War 2, his dad, my grandfather, worked in the Arkansas Arsenal near Pine Bluff, building bombs for the war effort. The last conventional bomb was dropped when Japan surrendered. The bomb factory was in the process of slowing down production when my dad’s 14th birthday approached in 1945. My grandfather was skilled at woodworking and had access to the wood shop where bomb prototypes were made. Since bomb production was almost at a standstill and he had not received his layoff notice, he made Dad a birthday gift, a bomb made of wood. Before joining the Air Force, my Dad went by his middle name of Don. My grandfather painted Dad’s name and his birthday on the bomb.

My family is planning something for me, but I have no clue what it is. Jennifer told me she will let me know the plans sometime today. This year, my birthday feels like a void, but I know my family will be close as I celebrate my 67th lap around the sun. I keep that old wooden bomb above the TV in our bedroom as a reminder of my birthday buddy.

I will see you again one day, Dad!