Chicken Scratch

Have you ever been asked the question, "What's the best gift you ever got for your birthday?"

I have on more than one occasion and I never have been able to answer it. I mean, I made out pretty well this year but I can't recall any other gifts that have blown my mind.

No one has ever really done anything big for me on my birthday. There have been no parties or surprises...no decorating...no balloons or confetti. Well...as a kid yeah but not as an adult. As an adult, my birthday has always just been like any another day. Outside of taking Jackson to the zoo every year, there's only one thing that I can remember that every truly made me feel special.

As a kid, we had this white, magnetic board attached to our refrigerator where we would make notes to remind ourselves of various things we needed to buy or places we had to be and at what time. On top of the refrigerator were 3 or 4 dry-erase markers that we would use on that board. There was always one that was barely hanging on with ink and if you used it, you were bound to forget what you had written because it was illegible. That always seemed to be the only marker I could ever reach.

On the morning of June 11th, I would walk into the kitchen and there on that board I would see my father's chicken scratch handwriting. The message was always the same. It was always in capital letters.
It always read 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LISA!!!!!'

My dad would be gone for work by the time I woke up so I wouldn't see him on the morning of my birthday unless it fell on a weekend. Even if I did see him, he'd still scratch that same message across the board. Every year. Never missing a single one. It wasn't until we changed refrigerators and the white board was pitched that the yearly birthday message ended.

Of all the gifts I've received over the years...all the cards, messages or phone calls...the ONLY thing I remember is my dad's handwriting on that little, white board. I remember how it would bring a smile to my face even when I was a jerk teenager. It always made me feel special. It always made me feel loved.

The board is now long gone. Even if it were still around, my father wouldn't be able to write out that simple sentence because of his hands.

Wait...I take that back. He probably WOULD try to write it but the letters would be illegible to anyone who tried to read it. Anyone but me. I would know what that scribble read and even at the age of 37, it would make my heart smile. It would make me feel special. It would make me feel loved.

So when asked what the best gift was that I've ever received for my birthday, my answer would my father's chicken scratch handwriting. No one would ever understand that answer.
Only my dad I would.