Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband Nick. 47 bumps today.
I've known Nick since he was 21 and although it has been quite a journey, a lot of it on a bus with no suspension, power steering or even breaks, he is unchanged in spirit. I was going to try to describe him, but sitting here now, I know I can't begin to do him justice.
Physically though, he has aged. The dark brown-almost black hair is steel grey and white. His teeth are in a bad state. The hairs in his nose are wiry and need trimming now and again. He has always been overweight, and this hasn't improved over the years. When I met him, he sometimes had a sore ankle having hurt himself (I don't remember how). Now he has a permanent limp and is in pain if he walks for more than an hour or so. Some things have improved, his skin is free from spots and perhaps the greasiness has kept the lines away. He kept his long, feminine eyelashes that go well with his dark eyes.
He got home from work early but very tired. I tries to make a fuss of him, but he just wanted to be left alone to watch the news. He did the things he generally does: ate the tea I cooked for him, commented on the news stories, told me about little troubles at work. We all sang him happy birthday and he opened the little parcel of wine, sweets and cards. He didn't want to drink the wine, I don't know why because this isn't like him. He gave H a lift to and from a thing going on at school, although I offered to go. The jelly snakes went down well though. He went to bed early and was asleep before I got there. I listened to him breathing and watched his face, I didn't get to sleep until 4.
All of this leaves me worried. Maybe he is ill, or there is real trouble. He is stoic in lots of ways and if he is, he wont say, not for a long time. We have been talking about maybe going to Bestival this year. Nick wants to see one of the German techno bands he likes. I'm just not sure he's up to it. He would be uncomfortable sitting on the ground and walking about, never mind sleeping in a tent. He doesn't like to be in a crowd. Hell, he even struggled at the Godiva Festival which lets face it is only a Town Fete. There is a bit of selfishness in my worries. Most times we have a day out together he gets grumpy and tired. I know the pain gets to him, but I get impatient and its no fun. So I think it would be a big investment in being miserable. We've talked about it and he is keen though, so maybe I should trust him on this, as I do on everything else, after all.
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