With my birthday coming up I’ve been thinking about Katy a lot. Birthdays were never a big thing for Katy and I; we did not throw parties or buy lavish gifts for each other. We preferred to play hooky from work and spend the day together; that was a gift. Sometimes we would catch a matinee and other times we would treat ourselves to a daylong session of retail therapy at IKEA and Potomac Mills. Each followed by dinner at Red Robin. We had joined the Red Robin club early in our relationship, she did love a good burger. One of the perks was a free burger for your birthday. She was always so excited for that burger. For number 43 we had to stay home because I was sick. She went out and bought a movie that I had been talking about, and she brought home Red Robin.
She was a gift.
Katy did have one tradition on my birthday; it is one of those small things I took for granted. And it is something that I will miss immensely. The first time I slept over on my birthday she performed a gesture of her connection to me, and she would continue this right up to the last one. Just in case we have any readers that lean to the pervy side (not saying there is anything wrong with that); it’s nothing X-Rated. PG-13 maybe. You be the judge.
On the morning of my birthday, and every Christmas morning I should add, she would somehow wake up before me. Katy was not a morning person. So, the fact that she would make an effort to rise before me makes this all even more special. She would get up, walk over to my side of the bed, lean down and whisper in my ear “Happy birthday, my love”. The “my love” did not come until later; in the beginning she would say “you sexy ape”. Then she would gently kiss my ear and head downstairs to take care of the dogs, which was my typical morning duty. Some years she would make me breakfast. Other years she would order Bob Evans. That little gesture was a gift. Katy’s love language was affirmation and quality time. Mine are, if you’re interested, acts of service and physical touch. I miss my cuddle buddy. Katy would do things like this throughout the year, but her birthday kiss was the one I looked forward to the most, and it will be missed.
If there is anything I regret, it’s that I never told her how much I looked forward. I never told her how that kiss would make my cheeks feel hot and wake the butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t thank her for getting out of bed much earlier than she is used to, to take care of the dogs so I could sleep in. I never told her how much I appreciated her sitting through some weird or gory or boring for her kind of movie because I just “had to see it in theaters”. I never told her how sorry I was for dragging to a different record store every year, sometimes several in one day, and make her wait as I flick my way through ever album in the store before deciding they have nothing I want and ask her to go to another one. I like to think that as I write this she is somehow watching, or listening, or picking up my mental waves in some Star Treky kind of empathy way, and knows how sorry I am.
This year I will not be celebrating. At least not from my end. I will not shoo away anyone that comes to me with birthday greetings, or bring gifts (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). But from my end it’s just another day. I am even working this year, and will be driving into the office, and I will be blowing some money at Mobius Records in Fairfax. It’s gonna take some time for my birthday, any holiday for that matter, to feel special again.
I will forever miss her gifts.
And Now She is Gone 
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