Today is Brian’s birthday. We have been married about six and a half years and I am so grateful for his partnership. If you only knew how unhappy I was for so many years, you might have just a little bit of understanding how good it is to have a person like Brian as my partner in life.

It is his style to be understated, it is my style to be exhuberant and a bit loud. Perhaps, then, he would just as soon have a quiet birthday at home… and here I am announcing his day to the world. But this is my blog, and it is about important things in my life. Brian is important, and his birthday is one of those days when I celebrate him more publicly.

We did celebrate in a very Brian way this evening… we had dinner at Altu’s restaurant. Our friends Jim and Cindy were playing tonight (they go by Hall and Morgan) and another friend, Paul, was sitting in on fiddle and accordion. Brian sat in on a few tunes, as well (on banjo and ukulele). After the performance was done, we invited them to come to our home and play a few tunes, which all three of them did. It was very fun.

Jim and Cindy popped by the deli on the way here. They got some very tasty birthday cupcakes, which was very sweet of them. We drank tea and ate cupcakes and played tunes, for a few hours. And then I gave Brian his new socks (well, he tried them on but I still have to work all the ends in before he can wear them).

Today’s picture Brian took of himself with his digital camera. He once did a good deal of photography but is more into other things (including computers and music) now.

Here is a poem I wrote before we were married:

You are in California…
By Lynn D. Troldahl Hershberger

It’s raining.
    Somehow it fits.
    It has been crisp and cold, snowy and sunny.
    But this morning you left, and now it rains.

It will be sunny again,
    and you will return.

But today it rains.

It is a perfect day for solitude;
For a nap,
    a book to read,
    cat on my lap,
    listening to favorite tunes.

Even a walk in the rain feels perfect alone.

I notice the sounds,
    the trickle of water into drains,
    the rhythm of feet on the walk;
I notice the sights,
    mist around the streetlights,
    fog on my glasses distorting the view.

Dinner for one.
    A notepad for company,
    Muzak playing “Close to You,”
    laughter in the next room.

The flavors are more intense,
    without conversation to distract.
I savor each bite,
    noticing the aromas and textures of each course,
    the sound of fizz in my glass.

Full and satisfied, I gird myself in rain gear for the walk home.

Somehow alone feels different now.

I’ve been a pro at it, had it down pat.
None of my activities today are new.
But alone when you have a partner is different somehow –
    I still feel loved, connected.

I remember well your goodbye hug.
    The hug lingers in my heart.

Somehow on this walk, and during this meal,
    your love is my companion.

Happy Birthday, Brian.