Wednesday, February 17, 2010
This one goes out to the one I love
(photo of G, afloat in the Pacific Ocean off the southwest coast of Costa Rica)
I've sung the praises of my husband before (but that was all before he cleaned my surgical drains -- am I right ladies? It takes a special kind of man to do that), and on this, his 31st birthday, he merits a post all of his own.
To my dearest G, on your birthday,
A few days after surgery, when my chest was tight, my mind was fogged by painkillers, and my entire sense of the world was out of whack, you did something that you do so often, I almost took it for granted -- you made me laugh. And why do I remember this moment, out of all the hundreds of thousands of other times you've made me laugh? Because it hurt. It hurt so much to laugh right then. It was like my entire torso was being pulled apart; it hurt so much I couldn't breathe. And at that moment, I got scared. Laughter is the currency of our relationship. We even, in our very nontraditional wedding vows, promised we'd keep the laughter alive in our marriage. And I feared at that moment that I would never be able to laugh again with you. I feared that laughter would cause pain.
Luckily, for me and our relationship, the soreness and tightness receded, and as it did, I was able to laugh again, and it brought me the lightness your intended. I can't imagine being with anyone who makes me smile bigger or laugh harder than you. You bring light to my life with your presence, and without you, I'd be a far gloomier person.
This time last year, I threw you a big party for your 30th birthday. It was an incredible celebration -- even though I may have overindulged in the vino blanco -- and for a long time, I looked back on that as "the last happy time." Six weeks after that party, we began our BRCA journey, and life, I thought, would never be good again. But it is. And you had the foresight to see that I would be happy -- we would be happy -- again after surgery. So this year, your birthday marks more than just the passing of another year; it is proof that life, despite its unexpected twists and turns, can still be magical.
The world is so full of beauty. I found myself weeping in the car the other day, not because I was sad, but because the song that came up in shuffle -- the Rolling Stone's "Loving Cup," the song to which we shared our first kiss as husband and wife -- reminded me how lucky I am to be alive, to be with you, to experience this wondrous world together.
Happy birthday to my husband, my best friend, and the funniest person I've ever met. In the immortal words of Fleetwood Mac, you make loving fun.