Happy Birthday Dad

Had my father lived to see this birthday he would have been 81 - not a stretch these days, but it didn't happen that way, and I sorely miss him. I owe him much for my character and my strength and patience, and I'd surely thank him for that if I could. He was a grand man who lived his life as well as he knew how, and enjoyed all that he got to do. After losing his beautiful wife - my mother and part-namesake to Dear Alex, he held on, but his life was never the same.
I know that he died from chronic, congestive heart failure - but at another level, he died from a broken heart. Not the acute pain and grief of immediate loss, but the grinding day-to-day without someone that he clearly ultimately loved beyond anything else in his life. I know how that might feel, just from how much I've discovered in the day-to-day that I love my Beautiful Wife. Not something easily written about, but you certainly know it when you feel it.
I dearly wish that my father had lived to see the wonderful little girl that Dear Alex is becoming - He'd have gotten a kick out of her spunky little self, and would have loved her magnificent hugs.