Happy Birthday, Verena!

Our tiny blue planet has orbited the sun thirty times since the day Verena was born.

Is this a lot? Is it a little? Are we tiny, insignificant specks of dust, or immortals striding godlike through an infinite universe?

I don’t know. I don’t even have the damn words to describe how much it means to me that we are together. I know I don’t, because we want to go have breakfast and I’m still trying to type this.

Here is what I do know: to have met someone like Verena, to have the love that we share, to be part of this union, is both remarkable and awesome, even on the days when we’re cranky.

Now let’s eat.

4 Comments

  1. Museum's Guard

    Happy birthday to you, Verena. All the love there is, to you both.

    (Are three people simultaneously singing “Happy Birthday To You” more musical than a 1945 AM radio playing the Beatles’ “Birthday”? And if they sing in German?)

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