|Photo Description: A portrait of Joe Jobes.|
I am lost for words.
Today is Joe's birthday.
He turns 63 today. For a couple of months he is older than me. He the old man, me the arm candy. He who dotters and me who wipes dribble. I pamper the Pampered. Yep, it's a fine couple of months. Speaking a bit louder. Engaging more patience. We play on every stereotype that we see in ourselves in our transition from boys to 'men of a certain age.'
People who meet him know he is a kind man, with a ready laugh, and a genuine interest in elevating the mood and the feel of an interaction.
People who see us together can see that his care of me is both gentle and respectful and still, after 8 years of disability, loving. I add that in about disability because the change for me from walking to rolling was enormous. The change for him was equally so. Everything changed all at once.
I am lucky.
We are lucky.
We met at 16 and I was there for his 17th birthday party. A much different affair than we've planned for tonight. We've just got home from a long trip and about to leave on another. We're going to stay home and fall asleep by 7, maybe 7:30. Dinner? We haven't decided. It doesn't matter. It will get figured.
We're going out with the kids and family on Sunday for lunch up the CN tower.
But, I'm writing this because I need to be writing something. I want to write something about the man that Joe is ... the man I watched him become.
He is stronger than people think he is.
He is smarter than he ever lets on.
He is deeper than his laugh would let you believe.
He is just simply a fine and decent person.
Oh. Let me say that again.
A find and decent person who is way, WAY, older than me.