Happy birthday — or as we used to say to each other — Happy Happy Joy Joy!
Another birthday and you’re not here. So much is going on on the political front, you should be here to see it.
There have been many time in recent days, I think about calling you, but I don’t know the number where you are. I still have a copy of your outgoing message. Even though I very accurately remember your voice, I still play the message once in a while, just to hear you talk for a few seconds.
Your birthday was on the 28th. Ok. I wrote a small post to you. I also happened to be at the grocery and saw a woman once I worked for. Last spring, she sent me a notice about a walk for suicide prevention. While I wanted to go on that walk, I was, in fact, not walking well at that time. She said she will be sending out a notice again this year.
She and I chatted about the ones we loved and lost to suicide. As you know, there isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t think about you.
I go home. Part of my job now is to distract mom on the anniversary of your birth and of your death. The day passes without mom or me mentioning your birthday to the other. I thought “Good! I did my job well today.”
On the 29th while I’m in the shower getting ready for work, mom calls out “Isn’t today Dan’s birthday?” “Yesterday was, mom.”
See. You are not immune to momism. She did that to me the year before last. So there!