Happy Birthday

**taken from a Facebook Note, 12/16/2015**

Tonight I'm reminded of how tiny and insignificant I am in the face of an ocean that seemingly has no ending and an island that began millions of years ago. And although that may be true, our worth, our purpose, and our short time in this world can make lasting impressions on one other just as vast and profound as Mother Nature's can.

As this year draws to a close, I'm reminded of all the memories we've made, joyful and sad - as Inside Out would call them...core memories. Memories of a reception I, we, had no right to be nervous for. Memories of my stay, our stay, within the confines of a hospital room, and memories of my struggle, our struggle, to return to normalcy. You've occupied such a short amount of time in my life, but when I think of how much I've learned, how much I've grown, and how much I've experienced with you by my side, it's difficult to picture what life was like before you and yet so easy to imagine what it will continue to be with you.

I'm reminded of my nervousness standing at the altar waiting for you to enter. It was humbling to realize that after all this time, the same nervousness and excitement I felt sitting in our ice cream parlor booth still existed within my being. Waking up next to you for the past 3 years didn't prepare me for what it would feel like to see you walking down the aisle, as beautiful as I've ever seen you, with the hope and joy of knowing there were no take backs, no returns, no exchanges. =]

I'm reminded of the nights spent on the phone with the glow of the heart monitor filling the room. More than that, I'm reminded of the nights you spent sleeping on a cot next to my bed. How difficult and different it must have been, but never once did I see you waver or grow weary. Months you spent traveling back and forth, caring for me, running errands for me, providing for me my only link to the outside. I've always known, always told you, that I didn't believe anybody could or would love me as much as you do. It's a sensation I've felt almost since the moment I met you and has given me more comfort and security than you know...seeing you make the trek every day to and from the hospital only reinforced that and my heart swells with emotion again at the thought.

I'm reminded of when I finally decided to wake up. Days I will never recall, but days of fear, worry, and uncertainty inflicted upon you and the rest of my family. My first thought, first fear was of you leaving. It's a deep seated feeling I've always had; the thought that came to the forefront of my mind was that no one else in my life had stayed. Everyone who had reached this point, this threshold, this road block...everyone who had had to make a decision to continue forward or turn away, had always chosen the latter. I didn't want to let go of your hand, didn't want you out of my sight, but you assured me you weren't going anywhere...and through it all, from the days I could barely make it out of bed to the days I got so upset for not being able to do anything on my own, you stood by me without a single word of regret or contempt, always encouraging me and helping me move forward, always proud of me for my small successes and happy for me at my larger ones.

And so here we are, in Hawaii, the first place you asked me to take you, a promise you didn't sincerely think would happen, to celebrate your 30th year of life. I hate to say that you deserve it, but for this past year, these past 4 and a half years, this is the least of what you deserve. Thank you for everything you've done for me, for us, and for our families. To many, many more years, of laughter, of tears, of new experiences and renewed ones, and of life. Happy birthday my love.