Tomorrow is my husband’s birthday. The following post is for him. (But rudely, first I will talk about me)
Birthdays have always been special to me – like really
important. (Of course, selfishly it’s
always my birthday that’s particularly important.) My expectations for my birthday were always
extremely high. I didn’t realize until
recently how much of a perfectionist I am, but oh I am! - and with birthdays I
have a particularly low tolerance for deviation from perfection. I remember crying on my 16th birthday. Why? I can’t remember exactly, but 16 is
supposed to be an epic birthday and I was disappointed. I was around 23 or 24 years old when
birthdays slowly became less important to me.
In my mid-twenties I had a low-grade sorrow that this special day no
longer held the same value. But I got
used to it. I celebrated turning 30 with
a bunch of friends and that was great fun.
Then 31, 32, 33 came and went. At
34 I had just given birth to twins a week prior, I was nursing whilst eating
cake, receiving gifts I knew I wouldn’t be able to use for
who-knows-how-long. Thirty five was
looming and the twins’ first birthday was coming. I stated to my girlfriends, “I
need a party for surviving the twins’ first year!” My twin mom friend laughed knowingly and
encouragingly. A few days later I was
diagnosed with a brain tumor. One week
post-op was the twins’ first birthday.
Ryan and I went out to Earls for my birthday. He was drab.
I had no idea he knew I probably had cancer, as we were awaiting the
pathology results. Birthdays….
So for my 36th birthday I wanted to
CELEBRATE!!! The importance of birthdays
was reignited. There was so much to
celebrate. Being alive! My one year
survival. It was huge! With Ryan I planned a party for the weekend
after my birthday and my expectations were also HUGE. I was disappointed when the actual day of my
birthday was low-key. Oh I’m sorry,
Ryan, I’m a hopeless creature when it comes to my birthday. And the party was great, but we had a bunch
of people over and to be honest a quiet gathering is probably a better bet for
me going forward…
All this to say: birthdays in our family matter deeply to
me. I had a great time throwing Rayna a
party in March. And in working to set
aside perfection (hopefully I’ll do better at my 37th birthday) but
in need of celebrating well: I’m excited for Ryan’s birthday (hopefully he is
too!!!).
I
will start the celebration here! (and it will continue to the next post, the forgotten battle, in a different sort of celebration)
I love my husband deeply and dearly. He has given so much for me. He places me first time and time again. He is a gentleman and at the same time he
loves me fiercely. We’ve celebrated much
in our lives together and we’re not going to stop celebrating now. Grab a glass and toast this amazing man I’m
privileged to call husband.
Happy Birthday, Ryan.
It is my hope that your birthday is filled with the joys that a birthday
ought to have. I hope and pray that your
year ahead finds you the strength you need for your mornings (oh the strength
to rise to your mornings!), the wisdom you need for your days, the fortitude
you need to endure the nights. My hope
and prayer is that this year finds you richer in the soul, richer in
relationships, and that it finds you satisfied in ways that are both new and
exciting.
Ryan, you are a natural at living boldly and
confidently. As Isaiah 40:31 promises
new strength, may you find new strength this year to live boldly and
confidently! I’m with you, 100%, wherever your dreams and hopes take you.
What a blessing to write this post. 38 and celebrating hon!
I love you!
XOXO
Love Cheryl
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