Unbirthdays

Let's all congratulate us with another cup of tea
A very merry unbirthday to me
~ Lewis Carrol

What happens when a birthday ceases to be? I suppose one can still celebrate the person who should be having a birthday…raise a cup of tea or glass of wine or eat cheesecake regardless, wouldn’t you agree?

Today was my friend Rob’s birthday. Rob died from cancer several years ago now. That is not how I have remembered him today. No, it is not those last pictures that are etched in my mind that bring life to him still. Instead it is those instances when Rob was in his glory—usually on a lake in the middle of nowhere, or whipping up some extravagant meal over a bonfire, or with a hammer in his hand on top of a house in varied stages of being built. This was the Rob that we grew to love and that we remember on days like today.

I knew Rob for almost two decades. I knew him as a single guy. I knew him through both of his marriages. I knew him as a divorced man. I knew him when he worked for Habitat and when he worked for a small firm. I knew him when he was unemployed. I knew Rob—in all kinds of wonderful ways. I usually knew him as part of a group of people and later I knew him as part of a foursome. We spent a lot of time together at the home of our mutual friends, Lar and Lor. When I remember Rob today, I remember his faithfulness to his friends, his commitment to his family and his wife, and his volunteer work for HFH, L’Arche, and other organizations. I remember long walks and good talks. Well, sometimes…there were the long walks without talks that he and Lar would do while Lor and I would amble along, chatting incessantly. Then they would have to wait for us to catch up.

So tonight, even though Rob is not turning a year older, I raise a glass in his memory and am grateful for the gift of his life to so many of us. Happy Unbirthday! You are missed.

Peace,

Suzanne