I Wrote Your Name In My Book

You were so smart then, in your jacket & coat. . .

Not so long ago, I think I expressed the notion that as we grow older, and the means of marking our numbered days grow shorter, it’s enough to feel gratitude for small kindness on one’s birthday.  And yet, that’s never to say, that you’re not allowed to care.

Loveen, you’re always allowed to care about birthdays!

Though I’ve said it before, sometimes I think I don’t say enough. . .you are an exceptional individual.  I’ve known you so long, and since you were so young, and I can honestly say it has been an honour, a privilege, to watch you grow into the person you are today.  Your curiosity about the world, the depths to which you will bend to meet and feel it, and struggle to understand it, humbles me.

I am so grateful that you’re a part of my life.  Often times I think I haven’t deserved the kindness and encouragement you’ve shown me.  Maybe there’s truth in that, maybe there isn’t, but the bottom line is that I know its worth and am forever thankful.

So, I hope you know I mean all of this. . .and I hope you believe in the amazement that your life will surely hold for you.  Because I do.  And though this is one of the first Christmases in almost a decade where we won’t see each other (I cast the evil eye at YOU, Mr. Recession!), just remember that I’m thinking of you and remembering all of our funny little adventures together.  Celebrate this one in big shtyle (in the ball alley, preferably, with some drinkin’, shmokin’, fightin’!)

Breithlá shona dhuit, mo mhuirnín Doireann!

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