Happy Birthday, Bunkie

Today is my birthday. I'm 64, the birthday made immortal by the Beatles. When John turned 64, I played their song as he blew out his candles and before we sang Happy Birthday to him.

Now it's my turn. If John were here, he would wake up and with that beautiful sleepy smile he would look at me with love and say "Happy Birthday, Bunkie." And he would make the day special. We'd be together and laugh and enjoy the day and tonight he would take me out to dinner. He might buy me flowers and there would be cards and a present.
But even though he's not here physically, I still feel his presence. I hear his voice wishing me a "Happy Birthday, Bunkie" and I can see that smile. Yesterday I had the urge to buy myself flowers and I felt that urge came from him. I even thought I knew which ones John wanted me to have. They will arrive today. And tonight some friends are taking me out to dinner.
It's not the same. It will never be the same. But I know John loves me and I know he is smiling that wonderful smile and I am going to enjoy this day for him and for me.
Thank you, Baby. I love you.