Today, John would have been 49 years old. Needless to say, he's been on my mind all day. That would probably drive him nuts too. Whenever his birthday rolled around, I'd give him a big hug and smooch and wish him a happy day. He'd always shrug and say, "It's just another day."
In some ways, I can agree with that. I know whenever the calendar clicks over to my birthday I enjoy the special greetings, presents, cake (oh yeah... the caaaaake!). But in many ways, it is just another day. In years past, most of my birthdays were spent going to work, maybe doing mundane errands or chores. No big deal, no special thing... just another day.
But I started thinking about John's birthday today, and especially about his claim that it's just another day. I just flat out don't agree with the man. One of my favorite sayings since John's death is: Weep not that he is no more; rather live in joy that he ever was. In the face of that, John's birthday is indeed a very special day, a day for celebration. Only once in the history of our entire universe did the date September 24, 1960 occur. Just one time, never to occur again. On that day, John Philip Johnson was born.
Still, today was just another day. However, it was a day that made me smile in a wistful, whimsical way. Having not been out of the house much for the past couple of weeks, I joined Steve on his errand running gig today. We stopped to get some electronics stuff (don't ask me what), some envelopes for my card sales, stopped at the day old bakery place and munched on a bagel as we drove along, and finally came across a vegetable farm that's still selling fresh corn and other good stuff. As we chatted with the farmer, pet his friendly cat, and picked out vegies it dawned on me. This is exactly the kind of day I used to spend, and loved spending, with John. Just driving around doing... stuff. No special day, just another day.
Yet, it's this kind of day that is special to me. This is the kind of thing I look back on and remember when I think of the time I spent with John. So, as Steve and I drove back home along the river, windows open and wind in our hair, watching the fish jump and the big, fluffy clouds hover o'er head like sheep in the sun, I reached over and squeezed his leg. As he glanced at me, I just smiled and said, "I love you." Then, turning my head to look out the window at the mostly blue sky, I murmured, "Happy Birthday... it is special."
~Keep Me In Your Heart, Warren Zevon