All Birthdays are the same, yet different.

Yesterday, I turned 73 years old. That is the oldest I have ever been, and yet I started to die on the day I was born. Sounds like a mix between what Will Rogers or Yogi Bear may say, but it's true. Which was your favorite birthday or one you remember the most? A one year old tot may not remember theirs, but their parents sure will, then at two-the parents of that child are proud of what that kid can do. Although the toddler can hardly walk, the parents believe the child is destined to become a world recognized marathon runner; or a Sterling Scholar as they said the word "Mamma" at six months old. Then comes when you were 13 and all of a sudden, you became brilliant overnight, and your parents were "so stupid"; then the descriptions of your parents change when you get a little more wisdom as you grow older. A big turning point for me personally, was at age 21, which at the time was the legal age to vote, and what a thrill it was to put the papers together to do that American thing. I was living in a foreign country, so there were a lot of hoops to jump through to get it to work, but always remember that birthday. And yesterday, was another good one. I traveled to Salt Lake and my second son-Troy took me too lunch and we were both happy, that maybe both of us are not as lost as we were, that we are beginning to search deep within ourselves, in order to find who and what we are. I also wanted to attach the letter by first son-Justin had sent on my birthday seven years ago. At the time, I am sure I read it, then put it away in a binder, where I would keep track of all the letters I received from my family; just like my parents; grandparents and great grandparents did. I guess it is a "family tradition". When my son "JJ" sent the birthday note, he was still going through struggles that life often presents us, but only Justin, me and his mother knew of his depression, which started when he experienced trauma as a young teenager, but held it to himself. He was our "golden  boy", excelling in anything he participated in, including basketball, baseball, and had the personal ability to get along with anybody, and quickly chosen as one who would communicate to battered children and help all people and animals. Although we worked through his depression without anybody else suspecting the turmoil within, I thought he had enough inner strength to pull himself out, but we lost him when he took his own life four years after writing the letter. It was only recently that I re-discovered the letter, and have re-read it many times, and how much it re-breaks my heart, but coming to terms he did fulfill all he could do while on earth, and our family has felt his spirit that he is okay, and time to go through his things and share the goodness of Justin Wm. Jones of Nephi, Utah. Fathers Day comes up in a couple days, and I will find my own seclusion, but remain proud of my Father, and the many fathers in my family, and stand proud of both of my sons so thanks to both of them for giving me the honor of being their father and a happy birthday it was.