Happy Birthday, Darling

Dearest Lou, Yesterday was your birthday, the first one since you left us. I was not looking forward to the day, quite honestly. We always celebrate birthdays, you made sure of that! As the day grew closer, my mood became edgier, more anxious. I wasn't sure how I would handle it. Would it affect me the way Father's Day did? I wasn't sure I was ready for that, again. That was just a week ago. I wanted to acknowledge the day, however, not ignore it. I wanted to celebrate YOU, my love, and everything you were. We went to dinner on Sunday night, the boys and I, and Robyn and David. Damon left for New York yesterday, so we acknowledged your day, as a family, on Sunday. We toasted you. We thanked you for all you were for us. We thanked God for giving you to us. We hoped you were celebrating, too, with your mom, dad, and Kathie. Were you ? Maybe you even had a good cigar. I hope so. I hope you golfed too. You weren't able to do that the last few years of your life here. It was a lovely evening with the people who mean the most to me. You would have enjoyed it. On your birthday, yesterday, I created a new holiday in your honor at the office called "Founder's Day". The entire staff went to lunch at the Parthenon in your honor. We toasted you again. After all, if it weren't for you, this group wouldn't be employed together! I made a trivia game up about you, and awarded prizes. It was tricky. You would have liked it. There are so many new people who didn't get to know you, and I so desperately wish they had known you. The lunch got me through the day. Worked a bit late. The walk home was warm and sticky. With each block I could feel the sadness creeping in. Coming home to an empty apartment is no fun. I had made it through the day, only to arrive home feeling lonely and sad. I told someone yesterday that I CAN do this. I can live alone, I can socialize, I can fill my time, I can do this. I JUST DON'T WANT TO. I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want to have your half of the bed empty. I don't want to start over. I liked it the way it was. I don't WANT to do this. But I CAN, and I am, I guess. Drew arrived for a visit late in the evening. He had driven down to the cemetery. He said something that hit me a bit hard. He can more or less accept that you are gone, but the WAY it happened, what you went through, is sometimes the hardest part to think about. It's so true. And that is how the day ended, your birthday. It ended with me, alone. I felt good about the way we acknowledged it. But in the end, when it is all said and done, it was sad. And empty. I miss you, my love.