On the far side of the country it's only 5:30 AM. Hopefully, Beve's still sleeping. That's not at all a certainty, even though it's summer and a Saturday and the man directing the back deck project is on vacation for a week. Still, I hope he's still asleep. Especially today.
Today is his birthday. If anyone deserves to sleep in, surely it's on his birthday. A person should get to do just about any old thing she wants on the anniversary of the day she was born, right? Sleep in, eat his favorite meal, work or not work as the impulse moves them. Be feted for the sheer joy of being part of this grand thing we call life. Celebrate a deep, profound wonder of having been made in God's image in the first place. That's what birthdays should be.
And every now and then, that's exactly what birthdays actually are. The significant milestones tend to make us stop and pay such attention. Sixteen's the first one. Then, perhaps, 21. Thirty will do it, but also with--for some people--a sense of 'yikes'. Forty rolls around, like it did for BB this year, and the celebration comes with a question. Sometimes a person wants to back-peddle away from that number. Pretend it isn't happening. Women stop admitting the number (though fewer now than when my grandmother was alive) and might even get a little work done so that they continue to look younger than the calendar tells them they actually are.. And both sexes begin to wonder what they've made of themselves now that they've reached this mark that just might be half-way through their lives on this planet. Yep, the older we get, the more difficult birthdays can become. So, it's no surprise that some people cease wanting to celebrate at all.
Not Beve, however,who turns 55 today, officially qualifying him for senior discounts. He's been looking forward to this birthday for the last couple of years. Anything to save a dollar here and there pleases my Beve, after all. And there's barely a vain bone in Beve's body. I should say, his very fit and unwrinkled body (though his hair is VERY gray now). He's aging about as gracefully as a person can age. Growing in wisdom and stature, I was going to say, though he's had that stature part since he was a toddler! In wisdom, though. He is a good man, though. A good man with a servant's heart. And on our first married-but-apart-birthdays (mine's tomorrow) is that he isn't sitting around, waiting to be waited on today. He's out doing because he's always out doing, if he isn't falling asleep.
That's just who he is.
It's his made-in-the-Image-of-God self. And that self is the one I celebrate. Not only because he's my Beve, but in a more global way, simply because he is alive, because he was born in Springfield, Oregon 55 years ago.
Happy Birthday, Beve.