On Tuesday, neighbor Nori’s birthday, I took her a birthday care package filled with sweets and savories and alcohol. Her father-in-law died twenty-four days ago in the Czech Republic; her father died six days ago here. She has two young children. It’s been rough. She needs sweets and savories and alcohol.
As I was putting the package together, though, I had a scary thought. I believed that I could guess exactly what she was doing the day I got married.
She would be having her birthday party, of course, on the Saturday two days after her birthday. She is turning thirty-nine, so it would have been her seventh birthday.
My wedding was thirty-two years ago today.