Forty-six

by Nicole Cushman

Luke loved his birthday. Every year, he made the same joke about being both a Leo and an only child, while he planned at least three separate birthday events. Of course, the real point of all those events was not to center him, but to bring people together. I’m all out of words to describe how painfully unfair it is that he isn’t here to celebrate turning 46 today. It makes no sense. It’s not fair. He should be here. That’s all I’ve got.

I had hoped to get it together to plan a big party for his birthday, but I realized months ago that I wasn’t up to the task yet. However, there’s a whole army of people missing Luke today, and I know of at least three events being held today or over the last weekend where people will/did honor him. It’s comforting for me to know I’m not the only one remembering him, so if you do anything to mark Luke’s birthday, I’d be grateful if you share something about it with me (if you’re comfortable doing so). I am choosing to keep my own celebrations and remembrances fairly private today, but know that I’ll be with loved ones and I’m muddling through as best I can.

Luke’s 38th birthday, less than two months after we met, shortly before he began growing “the beard.”