Birthday blunders

Today, my beloved Copper celebrates another year of life. Birthdays are always a VERY big deal in our family. We love to celebrate LIFE. Copper's birthday was a spectacular day of muted sunshine, brisk almost-summer temperatures, and the kind of air that is delightfully crisp and clean and yet lingers with a tinge of unspoken promise.

As a family, we were able to be home, all together, all day long - which is a rare treat amidst battling work schedules. That ALONE was a worthy birthday celebration in itself. Granted, we are all sick - but the joy of being together, unscheduled, unrushed, unprogrammed, was immense. The I love you's and snuggles and hugs and kisses from us all, mixed with the everyday mundane joys of just BEING together demonstrated the truths Copper cherishes: his family celebrates this day with him, his children and wife love him dearly, and deeply love spending time together as a family.

Our shared lingering illness was a damper on this special day I had hoped to create for my husband to enjoy. There would be no date night tonight. No movie, no party, no cake with candles. No traditional special meal at a lovely restaurant (which admittedly would have been rather wasted on sickly, wan appetites and in the process of being washed down with medicine and orange juice). I felt deflated all day long with the limitations the poor health of all of us placed on my earnest endeavors at trying to create a day of "special birthday perfection" for this man I love.

I woke up both he and I at 12:00 am this morning to be the first one to wish him a HAPPY BIRTHDAY on his actual birth DAY. While the gesture was pure-intentioned, the sheer-startle-out-of-deep-sleep look on my dear Copper's face told me that even though he hugged me close and thanked me for being so sweet, he would have much more enjoyed the solid sleep that I interrupted in order to wish him a Happy Birthday and tell him I love him.

The birthday flower arrangement was delivered to him at our door. After his grin, hug, and giggly thanks, he gently reminded me (as he has done every year) that he is a MAN. Spending $75.00 on a gift should mean that there is an electronic / computer related device involved somewhere. I have known that flowers are wasted on Copper since I met him. Yet every year, I just feel WRONG to not give him flowers on his birthday. Ingrained somewhere within me, there is an unyeilding fragment of my upbringing, "birthdays mean flowers for those you love" that refuses to be amended, even by one who accepts them each year under polite but increasingly unveiled protest.

His gifts were opened. Yesterday. And last week. Because I could not wait to give them to him and made him open them a day before. I am actually proud of myself for waiting THAT long.

When I have gifts to give to people I love - intended for a special purpose (a birthday, shower, or Christmas) it is AGONY for me to wait to give it to them. Especially when I live in the same house as the would-be recipient. I have been known to give Christmas gifts to my husband in October because I could not bear for him NOT to have it and to know it was in the house, wrapped up, unenjoyed. Though I am getting better, it is with tremendous concerted effort and denial of instinct that I make it to any holidays with gifts intact. I need to work on that.

But there is one gift for Copper still outstanding. Because this very special gift is still on its' way - unable to be shipped in time for his birthday - I felt so crestfallen. I had nothing to give him today except the annual bouquet of flowers, which seemed inept at delivering any birthday message beyond, "Happy Birthday! Your wife sent you flowers. Again. Smile. Forgive her."

Well, there was the card. Rather, the four cards. This is another area I struggle with. I cannot seem to exercise decision making when it comes to birthday cards. At any given birthday, there is a strong chance that gift recipients will get more than one card from me. Have you seen some of these cards lately? They are just too funny, or appropriate, or moving, or exactly right to pass up. Too bad we only have one birthday per year.

I presented my four chosen cards to Copper. He chuckled at me and seemed to really like at least one of them because he quoted it. That made my heart soar. I got something right! While it wasn't a grand slam, it was most definitely a base hit.

After dinner, baths, and sleepytime for our two babies, I thought certainly I could offer Copper an ultimate worthy gift for his birthday: some quality time alone - just us. Just me and my darling sweetie, snuggled up watching a movie, playing cards, reading together, backrubs - any numbers of scenarios found their way into my hopes. Granted, we would both be coughing and sneezing away while downing liberal doses of NyQuil, but it would be US, together. What a special time. What an easy gift to offer.

I got the move out, spread a blanket on the floor, changed into comfy snuggling clothes, got the chess board ready, and was preparing to make the mother of all popcorn batches.

Ah, but I missed the mark again. Silly little inept me. All Copper has looked forward to doing for himself tonight, all day long, has been to sit alone, in his game room, and attempt mastery of his latest Xbox game. This was his simple birthday wish. Some alone time for himself. And he was so hesitant to tell me this because I had elaborate plans for his "perfect" birthday that were, while sweet, not nearly in harmony with his own ideas of what that might be. Not that he did not want to spend time with me, as he expressly stated through a hug and kiss. He loves me and values our time greatly. But ultimately, Copper's one birthday wish today was for the gift of solitude. To have some modest unaccounted time to spend any way he likes. To be a kid again. To relax, play a game, and be glad in it.

Why are the truest gifts sometimes the hardest to recognize?

As I write this, he is downstairs, deeply relaxed, steeped in a game of complicated interplanetary strategy I don't pretend to comprehend. And he is enjoying his birthday gift at last. Better than flowers, four cards, fancy dinners, or nice shirts and fine sweaters (which are lovely on him and bring out the color of his eyes, but I digress). Finally a gift I can give to my darling husband which is enjoyed as much by the recipient as by the giver. At last, I was able to give something to my best friend and beloved - unselfishly - and with great appreciation. Finally, FINALLY, I hit the mark.

I am learning.

Next year, no flowers.
Next year, no flowers.
Next year, no flowers.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY my dear, sweet, patient, loving, devoted husband. May tonight's simple gift of solitude be to your heart all that I hoped to be able to give you on this most special day May God continue to bless your life and use you in His miraculous ways to be a beacon of His light into the lives of others. I love you.

Your newly floral reformed wife