I Find it Difficult

I like to write, I like language, I like words. I can virtually always think of something to say about anything you'd care to name. But I choke a little when I want to write about someone to whom I feel very close or whom I love. I prefer to tell the stories about what they did that I admired or the ways they behave that pull me, but I don't feel I do them justice with something as straightforward as setting out their special qualities in list form. Sometimes I can't write about such a person all in one piece - they play too large a role in my life and I have to do it in bits. It's as if the emotions and thoughts are too huge to let out in the room all at one time.

October is a month I like. All kinds of special dates fall during those 31 days, from birthdays to simply dates on which something happened that I love to recall. When it was time for me to plan my wedding, I purposely planted it in October, even though Ex would have preferred to do it sooner. This October has loomed large for some months now. In October, 2002, when I contacted the Badger for the first time in more than 30 years, I remembered his October birthday. And this year is a landmark birthday.


For the Badger is turning an age today, entering a decade, which no one would consider young any longer and most wouldn't call middle-aged, either. I asked him if it bothered him. Although he grinned at me, he was truthful: "Yes." The grin didn't hide his little bewilderment about where it had all gone. At least not to me. I know him well. We sat dining in the restaurant that always sends him the good coupon at his birthday ~ "Hey, Limes, it's here. Do you want to go?" Well, yeah. (I ate lunch for four days from my take-out box, too.) And I searched for words that would make him feel not bothered.

Oh, I landed on all manner of trite statements. "But you're an accomplished racing cyclist doing your best showings ever!" He already knew that. He was there. "We camp and hike like people 40 years younger." He knows. "Your photography is fresh and exciting and has taken a new path!" That's his eye in the viewfinder. He knows what he's producing. "You're blogging and loving it - you always have written well!" He already had that information. "You're in the job situation of your lifetime. You're admired, respected, well paid and secure." He knows he's the big man on campus. He goes there every day. I was falling flat on my face. Finally I hit on the thing to say. "Badger, I'm sorry it bothers you. If it's happening to you it will happen to me soon. It will bother me, too." Said he, "Of course, the alternative isn't very attractive." Grins exchanged - sincere grins hiding no pain.

We were seated in a round booth, so he didn't see the waiter approaching with "the bomb". I saw that chocolate, gooey mountain of fat and calories with the candle burning on top. The Badger's jaw dropped when he saw it, for this had not been ordered or ever presented in prior years. He stuttered a little. The waiter wondered what had caused such consternation and I finally said, "He's a racing cyclist. Chocolate volcano is not what he does." He was very generous, immediately offering me some of the bomb. "No thanks, Badge." And then I watched that disciplined athlete do completely away with the chocolate mountain. He doesn't even like cake! He likes pumpkin pie.

Once after leading the Badger cheering section on my own blog, I was apparently criticized through some commentary made to him, not me. It stung a little. It made me feel a little less free in my own territory. It made me feel criticized for expressing myself in my way about a person in my life. I got over it.

Badger, I'm cheering you again. Right out loud. Happy, happy birthday and many happy returns of the day. I wish you the things that make you joyful. I wish you purpose, lots of squid and a good picture or two. I wish you the wind at your back and wings on your wheels. I am glad to have known you on your journey and mine. I'm glad to share the parts of life we share, no matter what definition we apply to ourselves on a given date. It's not really the business of anyone except you and I. Thanks for the gift of you and thanks to Mother Badger for doing such a grand job at only 23 years of age! She got it as right as it gets.

Anyone perusing the blog care to wish the Badger a happy birthday?


In my ears right now: Oh, come on. My followers know me too well to miss this one. The happy birthday song, of course.

Something that charmed me: On the last day of his 50s I asked him to tell me how he felt about this important change of age. He said something very similar to statements I've heard him apply to only a handful of events in his life: "I feel like I'm about to walk through a doorway and everything will change forever."