Yesterday was Tony’s birthday. He should have been turning 48, but he is forever 43. I actually double checked myself because 48 didn’t sound right. He was born two years before me so keeping track of his age is easy. Yet still I questioned if that number was right.

Five birthdays we’ve missed his presence with us. Each year feels a little different as the weight of it ebbs and flows. I got up, made breakfast for us, and reminded the kids it was Dad’s birthday. Each kid reacts a little differently on these days, but I think it’s important to make sure they know where the milestones are. We all carry the weight of days in our hearts, even if we don’t expressly realize it.

I started the day without any plans. Figured I’d watch some football and putter around the house.

Then the neighborhood group chat started, and someone threw out the idea for Bloody Mary’s during the game. Half of Tony’s social media presence consisted of him sharing pictures of his drink on the outdoor bar with football in the background, captioned ‘Bloody Sunday.’

The hard days are easier, surrounded by people who also loved Tony, so I was in. My friend and her sister put together a garnish spread that he would have been excited about. Honoring the simple things can fill your heart, even if your team loses.