A Year of Blogging: December 6, 2011

There are several options for December 6: "Mitten Tree Day", "St. Nicholas Day", and "Put on Your Own Shoes Day" (is that instead of wearing someone else's shoes, or instead of having someone else put them on for you?). None of those are really inspiring for me. But, unlike other days where I'm forced to come up with something for one of these ho-hum topics, today I have a backup! December 6 is my half birthday. Before you wonder what kind of family we were that we celebrated not only birthdays but half birthdays as well, let me explain. It's a bit of a joke. It has a long history and always brings some bittersweet memories with it. The story started the summer I was 3 or 4. A moving truck pulled up to the Baptist Church Parsonage next door. The new minister was moving in. We didn't know anything about them, and as we watched the movers unload the truck, we tried to learn something about them. Anything. After all, they were going to be our neighbors. And then- there it was. The sign that made me the happiest little girl in town that day. The movers unloaded a red tricycle- identical to my own. I happily ran to tell Mom that the new neighbors had a child my age and they had the same tricycle that I had. I was slightly disappointed to find out that while they did have a daughter, she was actually my sister's age. The owner of the tricycle that matched mine was a big eared tall boy who was my age named Drew. We already had plenty of boys in the neighborhood. But my disappointment must not have lasted long, because I remember Drew and I being inseparable. Drew was six months older than me, to the day. So when it was my birthday on June 6, it was his half birthday. When it was his birthday on December 6, it was my half birthday. It was one of those quirky little things that becomes huge among best friends. If Drew was at my house for my birthday party, I whispered 'Happy Half Birthday' to him. If it was his party, he was whispering it to me. Drew's family moved to Pennsylvania at the end of fifth grade. He had been my neighbor for seven years- I'd spent more years with him as part of my life than not. I still remember the day he told me they were moving. It was after school was over. We sat underneath the trees that formed the border of our yards. We sat side by side- me in our yard and Drew in his. They were moving during the summer to be closer to his aging grandparents. I was devastated. While they were only going to be about five hours away, at the time it might as well have been the Moon. We visited Drew's family a couple of times each year. They came back to Berlin a few times too. Drew and I wrote letters to each other. Long letters written in first pencil, and as we got older, pen. We remained best friends through high school, but lost touch after we graduated. Even after Drew moved away, we kept up the half birthday joke. We called each other on our birthdays, and there was always the 'and a happy half birthday to you'. One year, when we were in high school, Drew actually mailed me half a birthday card. He took a birthday card, cut it in half horizontally, wrote on the inside of the half of the card, and mailed it to me. At the time, it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. December 6 always makes me think of Drew. There's a bit of sadness, because he was my best friend and I miss him. Then I remember that you aren't supposed to worry about those who aren't in your life any more- focus on the ones who are in your life because they are there for a reason.