Today is my husband's birthday. Birthdays are always a celebratory day, aren't they? Everyone loves a party (and everyone certainly loves cake...or at least the frosting, if you are my children). Everyone loves to get presents. Everyone secretly loves to have a fuss made over them. For us, though, thanks to our annual New York trip, hubby's birthday is a bittersweet day. It's sweet because a) he's a sweet man and b) it's his birthday, but it's bitter because we are almost never with him on his special day.
Since we knew we would be gone for his birthday, we had a special celebration before we left. Thankfully hubby is pretty laid-back about things like that and doesn't mind celebrating weeks ahead of time. In fact, he probably wouldn't mind not celebrating at all, but we can't let him get away with that!
So today I am thinking about Hubby, wishing he could be with us, wishing we weren't apart for his birthday. Forty-nine years ago today, a baby was born who would turn into the strong, caring, funny man I am lucky enough to call my best friend and husband.
Happy Birthday Hubby! I love you more every day.