I have always felt like February was kind of a useless month. Since my football team doesn't win anything important, football is long over for me by the time February arrives. Baseball is not for another couple of months. And I love hockey and basketball, but neither in the regular season are enough to make up for the lack of football. So that's one negative tick for February right there.
Then there's the weather. In the northeastern United States, we used to have these things called 'seasons'. And the one that occurred during February - winter - used to at least be exciting. Now a "large snowfall" means a couple of inches or a dusting, which always happens on a Saturday or holiday weekend for whatever reason. So instead, February is just this boring cold. Usually with some uncomfortable wind. Another negative tick.
The fact that it is the shortest month of the year seemed to be its only positive attribute. That was, until I met PH and found out that he was born in February. February 28, to be exact. So I had to wait the entire month of February but there was finally one great day, one great thing about February. Because if PH was not born, I would not have been given the greatest gift in the world. (That's him, for those not paying close attention.)
PH's birthday is special to me because it is a day where he can be celebrated and people wish him good thoughts. See, I think these things every day, but it makes me feel good to share the sentiments that one day a year. It's as if I am let in on a wonderful secret all year long and then the world gets to love him almost as much as I do for a little while, and then come March 1 (or in this year's case, February 29...another darn day of that darned month), I can have him back all to myself. You see, in our home, we don't just take birthdays or special days to show one another we love each other. Every day is celebrated in some way. But I do love his birthday. I'm so thankful he was born!
Another reason I love his birthday is because that day signifies when we are only officially one year apart in age. He loves calling me "the older woman" and taunting me about all the "old person" things I will do before he does. That big 14-month gap really makes a difference to him. Those 14 months have given him fodder that will last the rest of our lives. At dinner the other night, he was quick to point out that he was having dinner with a woman in her mid-thirties, while he was still in his early thirties. Those youngins really are silly sometimes.
So today we celebrate PH. My very best friend, and the one who makes me laugh all day long. The guy who wakes me up multiple times a night due to his restless sleep and the fact that his legs are like two extremely long thin sticks that take up the whole bed. The guy who took up both of the closets in our bedroom and has all our bedroom drawers filled with clothes and yet only wears the same three old t-shirts over and over again. The guy who gets the dishes as far as right next to the dishwasher, but just can't bring himself to open it up and actually put the dishes in. The guy who still likes to be sang silly songs and really loves hugs.
The guy who stood by me with strength and love during the most difficult situation I'd ever faced.
I love you, PH. Happy birthday. February still stinks but you make it worth getting through.
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