I have celebrated sixteen birthdays of this man's life.

The first one, I was one of twenty girls at the table watching him blow out birthday candles on his fried ice cream. Even then, I was grateful he had been born, if only because it made me so happy just to look at him.

By the year after that, I was the only one sitting next to him and his birthday cake. German chocolate, made from scratch, by me. Pictured above. Have you ever seen a man so happy to be sitting next to me? Let's be honest, those other girls didn't stand a chance.

Tonight will be the sixteenth time I have watched him make a wish and blow out the candles.

And I am still and always unspeakably grateful that he was born. Every good thing in my life has proceeded from that moment. It was, apparently, a very good day for me. And I am serious about celebrating it.

Happy birthday, love.

Oh, and welcome (as Caleb says) to your golden years.