Shawn's birthday was on the 19th. Big 24. It had its fair share of ups and downs. We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner the night before - he dressed up, I wore a dress that I'm 94% sure makes me look like a hooker - and weight gain ensued (Oh, wait. That was just me. I'm fairly certain my husband is physically incapable of gaining weight, even when he "tries." - and yes, every time I hear him say that, my eyes roll into my brain.)
I had planned to drive up into the mountains after dinner and give Shawn a free pass at one of his man fantasies (after denying him the last 638 times he's asked on every other day of the year) but our good 'ol state of Utah would have none of that - and it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And snowed. And saying that I'm not a fan of driving in snow is pretty much the understatement of the year, let alone driving in the damn snow capped mountains. Yeah, no thanks. Instead we went home and I gave him his real birthday present - which he might love more than me.
Doesn't he look cute? Step two is to get him some guitar lessons - not that his random, occasionally off-key strummings aren't simply delightful... but, you know. He spent the next two hours farting around on his new toy, and shrieking like a schoolgirl when he figured out a new chord.
Meanwhile, I was freezing my face off on the couch. Because, oh yeah, our heater broke that morning. There was some leak from our air humidifier, or purifier, or whatever the hell it is, and it got all over our furnace. (Which kills me, because our downstairs people had been complaining about a pee smell downstairs, and were wondering if Toby had peed on the vents upstairs, and since my dog isn't that ridiculous (and, well, air flows up from the vents) I figured it had to be a leak somewhere - but of course no one actually figured that out until it was -17 degrees in our house. Good times for all.) Luckily, only the gas valve needed to be replaced and not the whole damn furnace. Not so luckily, the furnace dude couldn't get the part until the next Monday. And thus our house turned into a Winter Wonderland for an entire weekend. WEE. (My brother and sister-in-law were nice enough to bring over some GIANT space heaters that I'm pretty sure you could roast a marshmallow over - so when I say our house was -17 degrees, I suppose I might be exaggerating. But just a little.) After having a broken AC and a broken heater, within months of each other, I can confidently say I'd much rather have a broken heater. So there's that.
The next morning, Shawn's actual birthday, we woke up and were going to make a nice birthday breakfast - and mid bacon, I got a phone call from my mom. She told me that my grandfather (her dad) had passed away just a few hours earlier. My heart sunk, on so many different levels. We threw some clothes on, and drove to the hospital where my grandpa still was. I've never been too keen on being around lifeless bodies, but it was comforting to see how peaceful my sweet grandpa seemed to be. He has certainly defied death his fair share of times over the years, so it was - and still is, a very strange feeling not having him around anymore. He and my grandma have been married for 59 years, and I sobbed like a baby as I watched her kiss and caress his face after he had passed. It broke. my. heart. However, I take solace in knowing that she, as well as my family, will be able to see him again. Our family is an Eternal Family. And I don't know how well I would be able to cope without that knowledge. My grandpa was a truly amazing man. It's an honor to be a part of his family. He will be greatly missed by many.
Also, on a semi-related note, Shawn mentioned that his grandpa passed away on his birthday the year before he was born - crazy, right? We're hoping that my grandpa can work his magic up there in Heaven and send down some baby love for us. Apparently our children are already stubborn.
I felt bad that Shawn had to spend his birthday morning in a hospital room full of sobbing people, but it didn't seem to bother him at all. We went to a shooting range with his brother and sister-in-law... and I suppose it's no surprise that I sucked. I was perfectly content pressing the button that shot out the clay pigeons (Also? Clay Pigeons? More like Clay Frisbees. What?)
Later that night we went to a restaurant with a bunch of friends to celebrate, and afterwards played a riveting game of dodge ball. Which, you guessed it, I also suck at. (Whenever we'd play in gym, I would always be the last one to get out, because I'd stand in the back and do nothing. If only there was a life lesson in there somewhere.) I also found out that night that one of my good friends had unexpectedly gotten pregnant. And being that my emotions were already haywire from that morning with my grandpa - I lost. it. Talk about a mental meltdown. You know, hyperventilating, snot everywhere, make-up smeared - the works. Luckily I had a friend there who let me snot all over her shirt. That's what friends are for, right?
We all finally went home - and all things considered, Shawn had a pretty alright birthday. I woke up the next morning to a comment on my Facebook wall that melted my heart.
My husband is the greatest husband in the history of husbands. I'm not biased or anything.
It's just a fact.
Happy Birthday, HotPants.