It’s John’s birthday today. I feel kind of badly about how not-normal a pandemic birthday is, but luckily I always have the memory of the year I completely forgot his birthday to make me feel like “well, at least it’s not that bad.” I have lots of “reasons” why I forgot his birthday that year but still, there I was pouring myself coffee and saying “good morning” and he looked at me and said “is that all you have to say to me?” And I thought “geez, did I not say it nice enough?” And felt a little annoyed. Later I got to work and when I opened my computer and saw the date I almost had a heart attack. In short order, I was able to arrange a cake, buy presents (my favorite of which was a cowbell I found on Craig’s list and made a coworker come with me to some college kid’s apartment to pick up that day) and the birthday was rescued. And now we laugh about it – I tell him I can’t believe he “Molly Ringwald-ed” me that morning by the coffee maker. As the years go by of birthdays we’ve celebrated, that one has receded from significance and so too will this one at some point. I am grateful for all of the long days and short years we’ve spent together. Happy Birthday to my favorite.