Writing a love letter to you would be a lot easier if you were dead.
Well, that really doesn't sound very good does it. What I mean is, if I was talking to a great number of people other than you, there would be so much I could and want to say... so much I would want to share... So much that is personal and intimate about our relationship....
But what can I say to you that I have not already said 1000 times before?
The blessing is in the truth; we've spent decades getting to a place that we share our thoughts and desires, wants and needs, fears and triumphs, opinions and pontifications…everything that is deep within us.
How we communicate and how we understand each other has been a long winding road. In the beginning the road seemed massive, rugged and endless. I think we both looked down at the ground and thought sometimes, “Wow, is this going to get easier?” However, we grew through our 20s, and 30s and our lives continued to be divinely intertwined, sharing wondrous and monumental moments without critique or edit. At some point the condition of the road we traveled together didn't matter anymore. We began to concentrate on the essential reality—We were together. Together, holding hands, looking out to the horizon, to the sunset, to the sunrise, and to all the wondrous beauty that surrounded us.
Our relationship is one-of-a-kind and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I don't expect anyone else but us to understand the magnificent and unique dynamic we share. From the very first day I spoke to you in 6th grade... When I heard your name, “Dana Hansen,” and my first thought was that your name was a blend of my two best girlfriends from my last school... I don't remember exactly what I felt but I remember I thought it was interesting and possibly a sign of some sort.
I think one of the things that we learn together through this blessed relationship was how to let go, relinquish control, and to trust. I don't know if you know this... maybe no one has told you... but you and I love to be in charge. Well, at least we did for many years. I think the lesson that we've learned as we've grown older is that we don't have to oversee it all.—that we can let others shoulder the burden. We can allow others to be strong. And sometimes it's simply correct to say, "Not my monkey, not my circus."
My friend Dana, you literally redefine the term, caregiver. It's not that you are someone that gives care, but you are careful in your giving. And I don't mean that you tread gingerly in your generosity... But rather, you spend a great deal of time thinking of the specific needs of the people that you love in your life and then plan out carefully how to give into their life in such a fashion that allows them…us…to experience the greatest love and personal strength.
One of your greatest gifts my dear friend is the fact that when you give from your heart, your loved ones are never left feeling below you, but rather, lifted to the light…feeling more hopeful…more loved…safer…better.
Through your marvelous heart that is uniquely Dana, I have been validated, loved, celebrated and healed.
I am thankful to God for your love and loyalty.
Happy 55th Birthday
You are my love life.
I got you.
Oh…and please don’t die before me.
But if you do die before me, I am gonna give one hell of a eulogy—won’t be a dry eye in the house. I may or may not be drinking champagne when I give it…anyway…I digress…
Love you as long as I live.
Mark