Happy Birthday, Joy!

From my earliest memory you were there, like the air I breathe. We shared a room until you were in 8th grade. I drove you crazy by my “organization style,” draping each day’s worn clothes over a chair until it nearly tipped over. I made fun of your juice can hair rollers.

When I was 7, we roughhoused on your bed in what was for you an uncharacteristically crazy tickle fight. In a reflexive kick, you knocked a loose tooth right out of my mouth (it only hung by a thread) and then felt so bad you apologized profusely. Probably the most violent act of your lifetime.

Together, we put on our swimsuits to do the dreaded chore, thinly disguised by Mom as a “Bathtub Scrubbing Party,” griping the whole time. Although you would have preferred a quiet leisurely read, you trekked with the family on a thousand picnic hikes, at the most memorable of which you flung a banana peel into the bushes, but it caught on a prominent twig and hung there like a neon sign. We laughed hysterically. We always laugh together. And cry when we need to.

We’re joined by memories and blood, not by any similarity of habit or temperament. Your Christmas tree disappears on New Year’s Day – mine lingers until Easter some years. (But as I grow older and more organized – more like you! - I try to get it put away before February.) Open heart surgery could be performed on your kitchen floor, and your definition of “clutter” is two stray sticky notes. I’ve been known to hide stacks of dirty dishes in the linen closet when Mom was coming to visit, and I think I have a couple more rooms to my house if I could just excavate my way inside.

You send gifts and cards like clockwork for every occasion but Groundhog Day. I have great intentions, but do well to remember Christmas. The year I mailed your gifts on time, your husband called and asked if he should save the package until February, so as not to break tradition.

So today, I thought I would REALLY surprise you with something ON TIME!

I love you. You are my Steel Magnolia, my quiet hero, the best friend I know will never drift away.

Happy Birthday, Joy!

May Love lift you up where you belong, and may your view from here be your best ever!