Birthday

March 1 is/was Ralph's birthday. This year would have been the beginning of a new decade for him. I wish he could be here to celebrate.

He would have loved all the new technology--IPhones, IPads, Windows 7, faster, smaller, fancier cameras. Would he be into texting, twittering, friending? I doubt it, but he would have known the ins and outs of every software program and every new gimmick.

He would have loved to talk about 2008's never-ending Presidential campaign and to complain about the do-nothing Congress of today. The stock market crash wouldn't have fazed him; he was an optimistic guy.

He would be relieved to know that The Monster, his scary enormous philodendron that takes up half the patio, is still around. I have kept my promise not to murder it. He'd be happy that Tiki, his cat, is as playful as ever. Every night around 9:00 she and Toby, my cat, chase each other around the house, jump in and out of the bathtub and then curl up on the bed next to each other.

How he would love to see Gabriella, our granddaughter. Eleven years old now, she'll be starting middle school in September. The last time he saw her was a few weeks before he died. Children weren't allowed on the bone marrow transplant floor, but his wonderful doctor arranged for a special wheelchair so Ralph could go downstairs to the lobby and see Gabriella one last time. On the way back to his room, he said, "I hope she won't forget me." She hasn't and I'm sure she never will.

Most of all, he'd be proud of me and that I'm getting along on my own. Often stumbling along the way, I think I'm better than we both expected. I miss him every day. I wish we could celebrate this birthday together. Since we can't, I'll light a birthday candle and think of him and know, somehow, he's thinking of me, too. Love never fails.