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Midsummer Day...

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Today is Himself's birthday. He'd have been 72. We had sixteen years together and I think I remember something eventful for every one of those birthdays. For his 57th we had a memorable trip to Wales - when he turned 64, I papered the living room with lyrics from the Beatles' song. Simple stuff like that, mostly.

When he turned 60 I threw a surprise party for him - and though I still can't believe it worked, everyone kept the secret. He had no clue until he walked in on some seventy people. (He later said his first thought was that we were being robbed by committee.)

It had stressed me so much worrying that he'd find out, I swore I'd never attempt another surprise party for anyone ever - and I've held to that. But that didn't stop him from starting every June with - "You aren't planning something for my birthday, are you? You aren't going to try to surprise me or something, are you?" Don't get me wrong, he thoroughly enjoyed it, but he wasn't much of a party person.

At any rate, this is the kind of memory I woke up with this morning. I doubt anyone will remember today is his birthday except me and the children. But I thought I'd post it here, and put a picture of him from that day twelve years ago. So hard to believe...

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