I don’t have enough candles for the cake I wish I’d already bought to mark the occasion of my partner in life’s crimes today but the years are just a number. Cyndie was born on this day some sixty-mumble years ago and that day is the most important day of my entire life, which didn’t even start until a year later.

We met as teenagers and somehow survived the myriad differences between us that never permanently broke the mystical attraction that drew us toward each other like the strongest rare-earth magnet in the known universe.

Whenever I pause to contemplate how special Cyndie is and how lucky I am that she has stuck with me through thick and thin, I feel a special appreciation for the therapist who saved us at a critical time in our marriage.

Every good thing in my life has come to me due to my relationship with Cynthia Ann (Friswold) Hays.

It makes the date of her birthday, June 4th, a day worthy of emphatic celebration! This year, however, we will be a bit subdued in our quarantine situation at home alone with Asher.

Cyndie has been making art and I have been serenading her with a shuffled mix from my music library while remarkable amounts of rain from thundering cloudbursts interspersed with bright sunshine are making life outdoors rather chaotic.

We will look back someday and reminisce about the year her birthday was so wet we needed paddle boards to navigate our trails.

I am so, so lucky that I get to be on this adventure with this marvelous person.

Happy Birthday, my love!

.

.