Yesterday, I wrote the date down several times. I plugged it into the work computer and looked at schedules, and planned my day. And each time, something nagged – I was forgetting something. Something important. Someone was gonna be PISSED if I didn’t pull my head out of my Inventory Prep Exhausted Ass and figure out wtf was going on…
It took about an hour, and then?
Kevin’s Birthday. Yesterday was his birthday. He would have been 39 – and dreading the big 40, while simultaneously planning a big ass kegger for it too. And I”d almost forgotten.
Part of me felt guilty, but I’m not afraid to admit part of me felt sort of relieved too. It’s a mark of healing, I’m sure, a mark of ‘I’m Ok, really’ even if I didn’t need such a mark. It certainly did explain why yesterday was a bit offkilter, a little uneasy, a little frustrating, and a lot of fun at the same time. Because that’s how life with Kevin was oftentimes too.
Somewhere, though, he’s laughing his ass off at me. Through our lives together he only had to remember two dates – our anniversary and my birthday (which he always mixed up with Valentine’s Day anyway. *L*). All other Important Dates belonged to my memory banks. That I forgot – even if only for a couple hours – I’m sure is amusing him greatly.
I blame my age.
He would too.
(Oh, the hazards of marrying a younger man, hm? )