My dad and his next door neighbor of over 40 years like to sit in their Kansas backyards among their gardens, trees and flowers talking about the meaning of everything. Both are fathers of three, progressive, middle class grandpas who have stayed in the same modest homes on the same street in the same town for most of their lives. They’ve watched friends and family buy bigger houses in fancier neighborhoods while they’ve stayed put with their wives and dogs and visiting children. They call their kind of contentment The Secret.

On my birthday last month Huck woke me up with a sweet hug, kiss, sad pause and finally this: “You’re 47 today. You’re probably more than halfway through your life.” I smiled and said, “Oh, good,” before falling back to sleep. I call this kind of contentment Taking The Day Off For My Birthday.

A few days later Huck came up to me with something behind his back and said, “You know how sometimes you’re really busy and can’t get everything done?” I nodded distractedly, lost in dark thoughts about police shootings, immigration bans, healthcare loss and my grocery list. From behind his back he handed me the small circle he made that you see pictured to the left. “Now you’ve gotten a round tuitt!” He burst into toothless laughter while I took a second to understand what was happening. This joke was not what I thought I was in the mood for, until I realized it was.  

I don’t think I’m the only human to feel like 2017 has been, at best, terrifying so far. To feel less hopeless and somehow in control of things, Troy and I spent April not only turning another year older but also turning our backyard into what we’ve always wanted: our own private place to sit, read, visit, sleep, eat, drink and relax, deeply inspired by my parents’ Kansas oasis. I told Troy I really wanted our cement slab turned into a beautiful patio; 85 pavers and a couple weekends later … ta-da! I can’t stop buying hostas and mulch, pea rock and petunias. Without a landlord to borrow a ladder from, Troy finally got one of his own, donned a wife-enforced helmet and cleaned our gutters with me standing under him. I go back and forth between lazily reading and violently weeding. I think I could drive to Lowe’s in my sleep. Huck occasionally graces us with his presence, though he much prefers to be indoors. Most of our friends know to smile and nod when we begin a Back Yard Monologue or Duet. I’m pretty positive when we leave the room they give comforting smiles to each other as if to say, “One of these days they’ll find something else to talk about.”

Next week we celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary! My best friend Shannon recently found an old video tape of our 10th anniversary party in New York, and she had it made into a DVD for us. We aren’t sure how 15 years have slipped by since that magical evening of our youth, and it’s easy to get deeply nostalgic and maybe even a little pained in the heart region to think about the passing of time, of people, of relationships, and all the new ones to come. But some things never change, as I was reminded at the end of the video with Troy’s solo dance to “Mr. Roboto.” No one said our marriage wouldn’t last, at least not that we know of, so it’s less a surprise and more a predictable outcome of lots of love, luck and comedy.

And I guess it doesn’t hurt knowing The Secret.