Nigel would’ve been 61

Today my Nigel would’ve turned 61, and to many people that would be a shoulder-shrug birthday. If Nigel was still here, it would probably be exactly that for him, but for me? It’s all about the fact that Nigel’s not here and underscored by a simple fact: I spent my own 61st Birthday moving our of the last house that Nigel and I shared.

Last year, I wrote about where I was at that at that time:

I think about him every single day, and sometimes I definitely cry, but now I’m far more likely to either be laughing, or maybe thinking about what he would do about something I’m trying to figure out, or I maybe imagine the great discussions we’d have had about the issues of the day, like, for example, he would’ve loved watching the recent Democratic National Convention and talking about it afterward. That sort of thinking makes me feel like I’m getting a warm hug.

As it happens, I’ve been thinking lately how time feels to me like time’s moving far more slowly than it really is, and that’s related to something else I’ve been thinking lately: I can feel Nigel’s presence as if he was literally with me. There are people who will take that as something along the lines of him being there with me, but since I’m completely agnostic about whether there’s an afterlife or anything else after we die, I’m a bit more circumspect. At the very least, this feeling could be because he was the most important and influential person in my adult life, or it could be because of how thoroughly our lives and selves were intertwined. And it also really could be something metaphysical, sceptical though I may be about that.

This situation, whatever it is, can be a bit comforting. I still miss him and grieve for our lost shared future, but feeling a sense of his presence, whether it’s “real” or not makes me feel a little less alone—although, Leo certainly tries to do that job, especially when someone walks a dog past his house…

I’ve often gone out for lunch with some of the family on Nigel’s birthday (and mine), but this year everyone was busy. So, instead, I made Nigel’s signature dish for my dinner, a meal I talked about last month. It was a good batch!

Overall, this year I’m feeling exactly what I was feeling on Nigel’s birthday last year:

So much has changed even since his birthday last year, and there are so many changes yet to come. Carrying him in my heart and in my memories continues to give me warmth when I’m cold, and comfort when I feel none. What we had isn’t entirely gone, it’s the foundation on which I’m slowly building whatever my future life will be, and that’s no small thing. Still, I'd much rather have him. Of course.

And, yes, of course I’d much rather be celebrating with him in person, living whatever our life would have become.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Always.

Previously:

Nigel would’ve been 60 (2024)
Nigel would’ve been 59 (2023)
Nigel would’ve been 58 (2022)
Nigel would’ve been 57 (2021)
Surviving the day and being okay (A 2021 post on how I handled his birthday)
We celebrated Nigel’s birthday (About the party in 2020)
It won’t be a good day (2020 – the first birthday after he died)

Special Note: I didn’t talk about Nigel’s birthday on this blog while he was alive because I wanted to protect him, and so, I didn’t share stuff that was personal to him. I talk about it now because I have no way of knowing who may run across my posts, and maybe they'll help someone else in a situation similar to mine. Besides, I love talking about the most important person in my adult life.