I turned thirty-eight two days ago and while I didn't do anything flashy, it was a wonderful birthday. My husband took the day off work and after we took Henry to storytime together I got to go out shopping.
By myself. Then I came home and took a bath. It was heavenly.
Friends wished me a happy birthday with cards, Facebook greetings and even flowers. Another friend is taking me out for drinks on Saturday. My mom, sister and in-laws gave me gifts earlier in the week.
My husband, though, deserves special mention. He's a great husband and is always appreciative of me, even when I'm not sure it's merited. I don't really need material things to prove how much he loves me. But his birthday gifts were so thoughtful that I wanted to share:
- A few assorted small kitchen utensils that I'd been wanting.
- A book on teaching yourself to play piano. (We got a "new" antique piano recently and I'd like to learn to play.)
- A CD version, mastered and cleaned up, of a tape of songs I'd written and recorded fourteen years ago. This was something I've been wanting him to do for a while, but the time and care he took with it just blew me away.
- And a poem telling me how much I rock.
The last gift was in response to one I'd given him when
he turned thirty-eight. Here's what he wrote:
To My Best Friend
On Her Thirty-Eighth Birthday
Six years ago
A friend of mine
Professed her love
Inside a rhyme
No memories stray
As I repay
My sentiments
On her birthday
So whether I express my love
On paper or on coffee mug
The following things
Are not said enough
***
best mother best researcher best wife best caregiver best daughter best doctor best sister best therapist best daughter-in-law best teacher best step-mother best writer best neighbor best partner best listener best financier best lover best organizer best homemaker best cleaner best cook best writer best blogger best friend
***
I love you
He made me cry, in the best possible way. It was a wonderful way to start thirty-eight.
