Happy Birthday Baby.

I bought a birthday card for Papi. I don't usually do that. I usually give a love note. But I felt it was important to acknowledge the changes my love desires.

I went to the 'birthday for him' section in 3 different stores. None of them really seemed like my love. I was close to just doing the usual until I found myself at Safeway getting the vanilla cake Papi likes. The vanilla cake with vanilla icing and that little orange rose that they put on top and then slide it into a sweet tiny box made just for one special person.

And then I saw it.

"For your birthday

Here's a little something for the 'do it yourself' kinda guy."

On the inside, it was one of Papi's favourite niceties in the world.

A bandaid. I laughed out loud and didn't care who heard me. This was my love. My love who has all the goodies your average guy would adore. A wet saw and all the other items that I can't even name. I only remember the wet saw because it was a super excitable day for my sweety when it came home. Then Papi went to work on re-tiling the Gma's bathroom.

That was a different flood. Not the flood we're healing from now. Anyway, I digress.

The 'do it yourself' kinda guy. The bandaid. It was all too perfect. On the front of the envelope I addressed it to Papi. On the inside of the card I addressed it to 'Mi esposo'. My meager attempt at supporting my love during the male transition that to date is killing me. My tiny olive branch to say, "I'm hearing you and I'm trying."

The little cake made with love that is a tradition every year, and the love note to say, "We are in this together, and together we will walk this road."

I love you very, very much.

Happy Birthday my esposo.

Happy Birthday Papi.