A Reason to Celebrate

“Anyway you want it,

That’s the way you need it.”

-- Journey

I can safely say that I have operated most of my life according to the above wisdom imparted by Journey (a favorite band of mine, thanks to my dad). But even more, it's the guidance of my parents that has helped me truly realize that in order to be successful and enjoy life, you have to be driven. You have to really want it.

Let me introduce you to my dad, William C. Miller. At first glance, you would see a handsome, well groomed, athletic forty-five-year-old. Looks can be deceiving however, as mon papa turned sixty today. As I walk around Paris, I have frequent moments where I stop and think, “Oh, dad would like that.” You may think this an easy comment to make about Paris, but I am talking about the more obscure, very “Bill Miller” moments. My dad has never been one to shy away from adventure. I can remember sitting in art class my senior year of high school, working on some horrific creation that would earn me a mediocre grade “for trying,” repeating in my head that my dad was going to be okay. This was not due to some surgery (or the battle with cancer he would later wage); it was because at that very moment he was heli-skiing. He was voluntarily jumping out of a plane to catch fresh powder. Flash forward twelve years, and he is still up to the same antics. Last year, he was concerned about his surgery as he wanted to make sure he got some skiing in. Cancer? As Samantha from "Sex & the City" said (and Bill Miller would have if he had less tact), “F*ck cancer.” There was fresh powder to be had, and no little “c-word” was going to keep him from it.

As I go through life -- and more specifically, as I live my life here in Paris -- I can only hope that I have a fraction of the determination and ability to live that my dad does. Sometimes I think I am an older soul than he is (stuck in an older body too, as that man can out-run, out-bike and most certainly out-ski me). But then I am reminded that his youthfulness and his desire to continue to live life have saved him. It keeps him going, and at a pace that is quite impressive.

I can’t imagine what life would be like without my dad as my guide. He is my source on things big and small, and has a magnetism that keeps me coming back for more (even if it is to yell at me for things such as purchasing a car on a whim). As I perused Paris for the perfect gift to celebrate my dad’s 60th, it was not to Bon Marché that I marched; it was to the Seine stands (as he speaks of that Paris memory fondly), and the only ski-store I have found in Paris. Whereas most 60-year-olds get a pen or a celebratory tie, my dad is the lucky recipient of a gold foil wrap to put in his pack next time he is somewhere that there's avalanche danger. I like to think it is Parisian because it is quite chic as far as avalanche-wear goes. He will like it because his beacon now has a new pal.

I can’t say I will be into extreme sports anytime soon, or that I will even be able to follow in my dad’s footsteps in speaking French. What I can say, though, is that after 60 years of living life, my father has become very good at it. And although it is his birthday, and he should be the one receiving the gift, I do believe that I instead am the lucky recipient. I am who I am because of watching my father. And I hope that I am able to watch this amazing man for 60 more years to come.

I love you, dad. Happy, happy birthday!