Days come and go. Faster through the years. Falling like Christmas tree needles, the longer the tree stands. The days will eventually end.
Only one day a year is special. Even when we say we are too old to notice them, we do. We know they are there. Even when we say it's not important, it is. People remembering makes it better.
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Happy B'day, Mr. D!
;-)
Thanks. But not my B-Day. Remembering someone else's.
Well, odds were that it wasn't...
But it's the thought that counts, eh?
;-)