First of all, please read George's post below so that you'll know what I'm referring to; then come back to this.
I had planned to post today, but when I logged on, I saw that my pirate husband had commandeered my blog to shower me with ecstatic praise on my birthday. Can I just say that his post (and a video message from the kids he made one Mother's Day) is the best gift I've ever received. (Words are my love language.) (I also love parentheses.)
In fact, I walked around with a goofy smile on my face for several minutes afterward. Hmmmmm. That's also what he did to me 25 years ago.
I had actually planned to do an "Ode to Jorge" on his birthday, October 14. Yes, I'm 10 ten days older. Imagine how fun it is to move on into a different decade when he's still in the last. Ten days of emotional torture! Ha. So he has stolen my thunder, but I will still attempt it on his day.
I would now like to offer rebuttals on some of his assertions, however.
Comment/Clarification #1: I have about five faithful readers, six counting you, George. So you don't exactly have a big audience, but hey, it's the thought that counts.
#2: Yes, he wrote it at 1:20 am, which is why he typed "Birtdhay," but what you don't know is that he was probably awake several more hours during the night because he is a strange sleeper (when he travels, he doesn't sleep at all, period). For the record, I am STILL adjusting to this behavioral quirk, bless his heart. *My girlfriends say that as long as you add "bless his/her heart" at the end of a criticism or comment, you're not gossiping.
#3: He says, among my other faults, (thank you for the birthday faults list, Hon, bless your heart) that I am naive. He also claims that he loved this about me 25 years ago (that 25 includes dating plus marriage, by the way.) We have now spent more time together in our lives than apart, if that makes sense.
#4: He talks about my putting up with him all these years. If you only knew what he has loved me through . . . and helped me through . . . and overlooks . . . and forgives . . . .
#5: Every day when I wake up, I'm glad he is beside me (or somewhere in the house because he is typically up at 4:30 or 5:00). I believe that one fateful day in senior English class in high school, God put his hand on my head, and the other on George's, turned our faces toward each other and gave us a slight shove in the right direction. I think it was meant to be. No life is perfect; no marriage is perfect, but we are perfect for each other. I love you, George.
Insight on My Birthday
On the morning of my thirtieth birthday, I looked at my nine-months-pregnant self in the mirror and saw, appropriate for an October birthday, a bloody eye peering back at me. Overnight a vessel had burst and filled the white of my eye with dark red, thick blood. Needless to say, I did not feel attractive on my thirtieth birthday.
On my forty-fourth birthday, that babe in the womb on my thirtieth is now a teenager. And again, I have eye issues. My lids are swollen and rough like crepe paper you hang at birthday parties. I think I have blepharitis. Now doesn’t that sound like a party?
I had to renew my driver’s license. You can imagine the picture. The BMV lady asked if I wanted to be a donor. I said yes. She asked partial or total. I said total. She looked at my eyelids. I know she was trying to think of a way to discretely mark it as “total--with the exception of the ugliest eyelids you’ve ever seen. If desperate, retrieve eyelids from a staler corpse or even an opossum rather than from this subject. Do not put these on anyone else.” Needless to say, I do not feel pretty on my forty-fourth birthday. Oh well.
Everybody likes to know trivia about their birth date. Here’s the entire scoop on October 4:
Born: Charlton Heston, Buster Keaton
Died: People in plane crashes. Three separate major ones totaling 173 dead.
Established: Hooters, 1983. Ironic.
Events: Sputnik 1 launched 1957. First English translation of Bible 1537.
And that’s about it.
Except, while I was searching for trivia, I found a list of famous people who died on October 4th. Right smack in the middle of Nobel winners and governors was Jeremy Alan Secord, whose title was merely, “bestest friend EVER.” I smiled. Someone slipped that in somehow. Very sweet.
So of course, I had to know more about Jeremy. I wasn’t prepared for what I found--a suicide memorial tribute to a 13 year-old boy from Minnesota who shot himself on October 4, 2001. He would have been 14 on October 29. Apparently, a young friend named Jenny wanted the world to remember Jeremy. I think I do, too. Here is an excerpt from her tribute:
Jeremy Secord was a fun, loving person. He cared about everyone, and was there for you. On Thursday, October 4th, Jeremy decided to commit suicide. He left a lot of us in pain. Nobody will ever know why he did this. But hopefully he is happy now. Jeremy left a note saying that there is no reason to live. There is a reason to live, you may not realize it at first but there is so much ahead of you.
You may not realize how much you love a person, until they're gone, and you never got to tell them how u felt about them. Don't make the same mistake I did, let everyone know you love them!!!
I love you Jeremy, and I will never forget you. You were the biggest flirt around!!! Heehee, that's ok tho!
I wanna thank everyone for coming here and reading this! It's really nice to know that people care about Jeremy!! I luv ya all! Bub bye!!
Jenny, I hope that even though you’re older now, you’re just as sweet and loving. I am sure that Jeremy knew you loved him. Because of your tribute, I am going to make this day less about what middle age is doing to me physically and more about making sure people I love know exactly how I feel about them, especially a certain thirteen year-old. Life is short, even when it’s long. Thanks for reminding me to tell people I love them while I can; it was a very meaningful gift.
Now that she is middle-aged, my wife
likes to stand before the window
and comb her hair
Her only makeup a trace of cloud
the landscape of a graceful
- William Marr, Autumn Window
PS: Maybe she's not wearing make up because of puffy, purulent eyelids, bless her heart.