Today is Fang's birthday, the first since he's passed. I wasn't sure how difficult it would be since he personally deplored any fuss around his birthday. The biggest fight we ever had was when I threw him a surprise 40th birthday party at a chic bar in Manhattan in 2002. It went badly and we had a huge public argument about it at Penn Station after the event. At that moment, he made me swear I would never do anything like that again. Against my will and better judgement, I never did. Circumstance saw to that.
Today he would have turned 50. If he were living, I could have gotten loads of grief mileage out of the AARP applications arriving in the mail commemorating this milestone birthday. Instead, I am calling relatives and sharing memories of him, drinking a few glasses of wine and enjoying a series of outright crying jags. I'm just very sad tonight.
Of course if he were here, he would roll his eyes at all this and utter in his sardonic fashion: "Oh, please!" He hated people fussing in any regard. But he'd like knowing how much he was and is loved.
I miss my silly old bear so much.