When You’re 65 or Things Seth Can Do

Today, my husband, Seth, turns 65.  When I look at him, his white hair startles me. Behind my eyes, his hair is brown and thick and he is 26 as he was the day we married. But the rest? A predilection for t-shirts and jeans? That never changes. His deep love for all of us—me, our children, his family, our pets our friends?  Unwavering.

These days, he sports one new knee, two new shoulders and, basically, a new back. He is teaching older adults to read and do math each weekday morning. When I think of us together, I see us with our children or our parents or driving to Eagles Mere or sitting next to each other in a darkened theatre. He is with his mom today—not everyone gets to celebrate a 65th birthday with his mother. I am thinking about how funny time is—that, in my mind’s eye, Seth is as he was when I met him lighting The Miracle Worker in college, and, simultaneously, he is next to me, his hair dyed green, as it was in March, cheering on the Laurel basketball team—he is their biggest fan! He is cuddling an infant; he is toasting Miranda at her wedding; he is doing whatever Cordelia says; he is smiling with pride as Atticus crosses the stage at graduation last week. He is in the beams in the DeWire Center, teaching ETC kids to focus lights. He is greeting the dogs when he comes back from doing errands. I married a Renaissance man—someone whose skills and talents are often hidden because he is so modest—when he is not insisting he is right. Here is a partial list of all the things my all my beloved can do that I cannot.

Here is an incomplete list:

Remember our credit card number by heart.

And our bank account numbers.

And phone numbers.

And how many feet in a mile or math formulas. 

Light the backyard in summer so it looks like fairyland and the front yard in winter, so that it looks like Santa’s elves live here.

Pack the car so that impossibly complex loads all fit (I could be responsible for the complexity of the loads) and never stress or curse while doing so.

Say I look nice without opening his eyes.

Be the pets’ favorite even though I feed them more often.

Not worry about things—well, he may worry quietly, but he rarely worries to me and he is good at reminding me that worrying about something will not change the outcome.

Fix any number of things—electronic or not.

Understand how things work—I guess this is related to fixing thing, but also economics, scientific phenomena, math puzzles…

Climb up to high places. Even though he acknowledges that he is afraid of heights.

Deal with cars—what they’re called, how they run, what to do when they break or make weird noises.

Be unintimidated by long road trips when the car is packed to the brim and rear window visibility is nil.

Drive on highways without worrying about trucks.

Let go of grudges.

Find what he is looking for in Home Depot or Lowes without needing anyone to help.

Not be afraid of Diva biting him even when she growls and snaps.

Not ask for help even when he needs it—this may not be such a good thing.

Not ask for directions—see above.

Go on Facebook and see nothing about anyone he knows.

Fix my computer or my passwords or manage other tech dilemmas I encounter without losing his patience.  His dad used to call in the middle of the night, desperate about a computer glitch. Seth would calmly get out of bed, open his own laptop, and gently talk Hal through whatever difficulty he was having. 

Teach math to little people. And big people.

Build a gaga pit out back in the Laurel field.

Watch scary movies without covering his eyes.

Repeatedly sleep through his alarm.

Read his phone while walking the three dogs around the circle.

Stop watching shows or reading books in the middle if he is not interested.

Eat peanut butter.

Eat pineapple pizza.

Know the lyrics to many Beatles songs and Warren Zevon songs and Bob Dylan songs.

Manage mangled dead and partially dead rodents, birds, bunnies left by the cats as gifts without screaming.

Instantly know which batteries are required for any item and how to put them in so they work right away.

Figure out how to keep my Micky Mouse watch running because it is my favorite.

Create the weirdest, longest passwords ever, including an odd preference for the right parentheses.

Design the most beautiful jewelry that he gave me each time one of our babies was born.

Rival Sclepi as the family favorite.

Know more about current events than the average person even though he was once wrong about which candidate would win a fairly recent Presidential election.

Design a home for the two of us considering every detail and, especially, light.

Believe in me when I doubt myself.

Love me even at my most unlovable.  For four decades.

Happy Birthday, Seth.  And yes, I will still love you now that you are 65!