All my bandages fell off last night. I guess I was too restless, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. So, this morning the Prospector carefully re-wrapped fresh gauze and tape around the incision and re did the elastic bandage for me.
When I hobbled into the kitchen, there was a rose on the table... brought in from the garden early in the morning. He had picked it for me... for ME.
It was sometime after that, I remembered what I never forget.
The man who is always there, always taking care of me and has never failed to be there for me... was turning 70 years without any celebration. I (wrapped up in my own drama), had forgotten that this was the day.
I'm sorry love. I have no gift, no card... all of this will have to wait for a few weeks.
I can only give you my love, which is always there... and this post... especially for you.
Happy Birthday, my love. May your pan be filled with gold and may you always have a dog in your lap.