Wednesday, 7 November 2012

A repost, in full. Today would have been his 42nd birthday and I've very recently decided I'm never getting out of bed again.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Bottle Green

Or maybe I should call this entry bottle empty, for that's what it was when Jacob was finished celebrating Birthday 2006.


Jacob is thirty-six today!

And this time I got to play designated driver. Which held way more peril for me than it seems to for him, most likely because if I'm unsteady on my feet, he can simply carry me home. If he's unsteady on his feet I have to enlist at least two of the boys to keep him upright. He's a big man, and it's been a very long while since he's had a drink. Let's just say that he was long overdue and gee, did he ever make up for it tonight.

(The funniest part about Jacob having one too many that embarrasses him half to death is that he'll reach a point where he starts to talk rather strangely, adding a whole round of extra words to everything he says, alot like the Winnie-the pooh-speak and it is the best thing ever.)

We went out to dinner with four other couples to celebrate his birthday, with a sitter at home to keep the kids happy-they don't like Thai food and it is a school night. There was less food and more alcohol than usual. Jacob listened as each of us stood up and said a few words about the past year of his life. Mostly everyone reiterated that he was moving in the right directions all the way around and we were so very proud of him.

He stood up and raised his glass, drinking it down and then he started talking. His Newfie accent is so prevalent when he's had a few, what a riot. It was touching as he went around the table and told each person what they had meant to him and how they had specifically supported him over the past year, and then when he got to me he stopped talking and just smiled broadly for a minute. His eyes were glassy. I smiled back at him. Everyone started to tell him to just get on with it so we could all have dessert (the cake) and so he did.

To my Bridget. My bottle-green-eyed bride of ninety-four whole days, the past year has been impossible with you as usual. You make me so crazy. You make me worry. You frustrate me and sometimes I'm rocked dumbstruck at what it is about you that keeps bringing me back for more. But now that I've held you in my arms and you've become my wife at long last I know the answer and I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you, thank you for being with me. I hope I do you proud. Thank you for this day. For this year.

(He was easy to understand until this point, then it was all downhill.)

He bent down and kissed me and told me he loved me again, while some noisy awwww's rose up from the table. They brought out the cake and we sang and ate and drank some more.

Too much more for Jacob.

Which...well, argh. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or give in.

Finally the simple fact that it was a weeknight brought our dinner to an early close. Jacob seemed okay to walk out and I drove us toward home, perched on the edge of the truck seat because it's difficult to reach the pedals.

I need to stop in my office for a minute, Bridge. Something important must be done and so I have to be there for it.

Okay, I'll wait out here.

No, come in with me because you're out here and I'd much rather see you without seeing you, and it's dark right about now. I think.

Alright.


He unlocked the side door of the empty church and we went in, he grabbed my hand and I followed him down the darkened hallway to his office door. We giggled and whispered the whole way as if we might get caught. He stopped when we got inside his office and I bumped right into him. He closed the door and locked it.

Jacob, why don't you turn on the lights?

Lights? We need those? I see everything I need that was here right behind me and always in front of my eyes. Like magic. Let's keep the dark going. Because then I can do...this.


He bent his head down and kissed me so hard I swear he bruised my lips. His hands searched inside my coat and he didn't stop until he hit bare skin. He tasted like whiskey. He was trying to unbutton my dress but he couldn't manage the buttons and so he went for hiking it right up instead. His hands lifted me up onto his desk and he was pushing me flat onto my back. I'm sorry, God. I tried to take him home. I think his patience rode the whiskey right out of his mind.

Oh, no, Jacob. Not here. This is your office.

Right. It is and my God, it's so messy and I think I want you right now, princess. Right and completely this minute.

Jacob, your office is IN THE CHURCH. We're in the church!

It's not like we're under the pulpit, Bridget. Just let me worry about that and take your damned dress off because I just noticed I think I hate some buttons like these ones here.

Jacob, we're going to get struck by lightning

Then our hair will stand on end forever and make us laugh. We'll finally have black eyelashes and smoke will come out of our noses. Now come here, beautiful girl.


Could I could blame the whole thing on not being able to understand what he was saying half the time?

No?

Well, I never said we were saints. And I never said it was proper. And I will definitely never look at that desk the same way ever again.

Jacob maintains he has had the Best Birthday Ever. We are so going to hell.