I met Amy shortly after her 31st birthday. She told me her birth date and I dutifully remembered it. Incorrectly. Somehow January 20th stuck in my mind. One year I asked what she wanted to do for her birthday this coming Saturday.
"Saturday?" She queried. "My birthday is on Monday. You DO remember my birthday is on the 22nd, right?"
"Yes, yes, of COURSE I remember," I lied.
And then one year I renewed our benefits and slipped again by filling out the paperwork with dependent information and the wrong birthday. Amy noticed this when getting a prescription and was denied coverage for she was the wrong Amy with a different birthdate.
Luckily, Roe v. Wade day is also Amy's birthday. She would sometimes joke that people always protested in front on the Supreme Court on her birthday. So from time to time I did what any normal person would do to recall her birthday: Google "Roe v Wade."
Saturday Amy turned 43. We released purple balloons at the Middle School like we did on Mother's Day. And then the boys and I ran down and up the big hill nearby. It was very cold, we wore ourselves out and I tweaked my achilles.
There have been billions of January 22nds even before January existed. And billions more will come. Yet this is our first January 22 apart since being together. The Sun and Earth will conspire again and again to create more January 22nds. And nothing I know stops that. And nothing stops the love you gave us, nor the love I hope you received. That I will never forget.