Quarter Century

No. 25 has come and gone, and for at least the third straight year, things didn’t go as I planned them–and it’s a good thing.

On Friday, Annette and I went out for a beer after work.  She is happier right now than I have seen her in a very long time.  We had great conversation.  She had her old smile back.  It was awesome to see.  At the end of the night, we made plans to get together on Sunday.

Saturday, I woke up to my two-year-old niece, Lillian, singing “Happy Birthday” on the karaoke machine.  It’s the only song she is willing to sing…no “ABC’s,” no “Old MacDonald.”  Just “Happy Birthday.”  I guess it was fitting for the day.

Around 3 p,m., the select number of family members that come to every one of my birthdays arrived.  My brother, my aunt and her son, and my grandma.  It was small, the way I like it when I have a say.  My brother’s girlfriend asked me at one point if I was going to do anything else that night.  I told her this was it…that even this was more than I wanted.

It was fun though.  We cheered on Peja Stoyakavic in the Three-Point Shootout, played dominoes and cards.  I got some cool stuff.  Two new video games, a couple of beanies, two shirts, a bunch of lottery scratchers (from which I won four bucks) and $40 cash.

It was a nice night.  As soon as everyone left, I turned in…but not before playing the new video games for a while.

On Sunday, I woke up and turned in my assignment for the magazine and flipped between the Daytona 500 and college basketball.

I had called Annette the day before to wish her a Happy Valentine’s Day, but she didn’t answer her phone.  The next day we made plans for dinner and a movie.  We went to see “Barbershop 2,” which was pretty funny.  She kicked my ass in air hockey both before and after the movie.  We went to dinner and had some more nice conversation.  I handed her a Valentine’s Day card, which she opened.  She read the letter I enclosed and we talked about that for a while.  I don’t know that I made things any clearer for her–in fact, I think I may have made her uncomfortable.  We talked through it–like old times.  We clicked like we used to.

She dropped me off back home, and rubbed in her air hockey victories again.  She drove off to start her long ride home and I went inside.  It was different than the last couple of birthdays, but it was no less perfect.