Day Thirty-seven: Celebrating 60

When I got up this morning, I sang "Happy Birthday" to my wife who would have turned 60 on this day. My plans were to have a quiet day of reflection and remembrance, hiking to her favorite Pacifica spot in the morning and doing something else in the afternoon. I cried when I sang "Happy Birthday;" I cried when I IM'd my son; I cried when I talked with my oldest daughter; I cried when I talked with my youngest daughter; and I cried when she got here. My eyes are even tearing up as I write this.

[Picture taken at King's Canyon in June of 2005, when she had cancer but before it was diagnosed.]

Yes, I still miss her, even painfully so, but a lot of the tears were due to more pleasant memories, all of which are bittersweet.

My daughter and I did hike to where the Portola Expedition discovered the San Francisco Bay, starting at 1:00 PM. We also stopped into a furniture store that Marilyn really liked, and had taken me there to look at stressless recliners, which is why we went there today, to look at them for me. (I've needed a new recliner ever since my old "Blue" was taken to the dump.) After we got back to the house, we each had one of the vegan chocolate cupcakes that I had made, with a commemorative birthday candle. We then went to Greens, Marilyn's favorite San Francisco restaurant. Greens was, and may still be, associated with a Zen Buddhist farm in Marin. It is completely vegetarian, with some vegan options. We went there a couple times when she was still on the Gerson Therapy as they allowed her to bring in her Gerson food since it was very much vegetarian. (If the lymphedema hadn't effectively halted this therapy, I believe she would have lived.)

I remember back before this recent round of cancer, I was planning on having a big blowout embarrassing birthday party for her on her 60th. I had kept from doing this at earlier milestones because, since I was slightly younger than her, she would have been able to obtain her revenge. I figured that at 60 I was myself to old to care and everyone should have at least one embarrassing birthday. I guess change is the essence of life, even Life after Layoff.

Marilyn, you are still loved. I just wish you could be here to share my freedom. We would be traveling this whole year, but somehow traveling by myself just doesn't have the appeal. Even driving around here I find myself thinking: "Marilyn would have loved that;" or "I'd like to tell Marilyn about this."