It was a Saturday, just after he had walked back into my life.
I met Rob in 1975 in our church choir. He was married then. He had a little boy. We lived near each other about 20 km from the church, and carpooled to rehearsals and services. As time went on, a casual friendship developed, and then he dropped out of choir to take up gliding, and I didn't see or hear from him for over a year. When he called, it was to tell me that he and his wife had split -- which wasn't a surprise, because many of us had been aware that the marriage was in trouble -- and could he see me? I was glad to hear from him, and happy to see him.
We went out several times, and then came the Saturday in November -- the 21st, to be precise -- when he was coming over and we were gong to do
haven't a clue what! I remembered from when he was active in the choir, one year Nov 22 was a Thursday -- we had a rehearsal, and in the course of the evening, we had occasion to observe three things: it was St Cecilia's Day (patron saint of music); it was the anniversary of JFK's assassination (do you remember what you were doing when you heard? everyone did); AND we had a birthday to celebrate -- Rob's. The thing I couldn't remember was whether it had happened yesterday or was about to tomorrow.
Well, I wanted to observe the date, so I had my small gift for him when he came on Saturday, and said, "I don't remember whether it's today, or Monday, but Happy Birthday." He misted up, said I'd solved a problem for him, and invited me to dinner on Monday night. Seems he desperately wanted to do that, but didn't want to make a big thing of it being his birthday. That was when the penny dropped for me. And, incidentally, it was a lovely dinner, and went on into the wee small hours.