My Dad's birthday is May 9th. He died on July 21, 2002 just 2 months after meeting my daughter for the first time.
My Dad's birthday often fell on Mother's Day or near Mother's Day and I remember lots of times where we had two cakes that weekend - one for Dad and another for Mom.
I realise, sometimes, that my Dad never saw my daughter's first bike riding video; he didn't get a chance to see her sing a solo in the Christmas concert, he never told me I was a good parent or that he was proud of my family. I feel him with me sometimes; I hear his voice in my head telling me I'm his little girl. Sometimes that's enough. But not today.