Today would have been my father’s 68th birthday. As I have mentioned before I have a hard time with December -it’s just so damn full of anniversaries and hug-a-thons at every turn. It’s enough to make a slightly agoraphobe want to stay in for a very long time. Today, I believe, is the hardest of all the days at The Manor. We always tried so hard to make my father’s birthday something special because he gave our family so much. So rather than mope through the day we threw a big, fat party to celebrate the season and get through it without crying our hearts out. We had some longtime beloved friends and some wonderful new ones over for lots o’ drinks and a hearty dinner followed by the most most fabulous cake ever. And while I still feel like crying because I miss him so much, I feel like I can fall asleep in peace.