I don't know that I've ever met a more self-sacrificing person than my aunt, Debbie. I hold such dear memories of this woman...and I know she'd do just about anything in her power to make my life easier. I hope she knows the reverse is true as well.

During my youth, we took family vacations to Northern Wisconsin (ie "Up North"...have to be considerate of the non Wisconsinites), I was an early bird. My father and brother were out fishing, and the women slept...except Debbie. I would sneak over from my family's cabin to hers, where she was always sure to stock up on orange juice for the week for just such occasions. I loved my orange juice. It would be just her and me...with our respective coffee and juice, inhaling the early summer air and watching the dust motes flutter in the orange early morning sun. Soft voices and silly giggles...it was our private time, and nobody could touch it.

And when the news with Mom's Cancer got bad, really bad, Debbie told me. "If it were me, I'd wanna know," she'd say. Mom always worked so hard at soothing everybody that she often made things appear lighter than they were. I remember her returning home after one scan, duly breaking down with the spread of this hideous disease, and then adding lightness and reassurance to her voice as she notified her mother, sisters. She made it seem blasé, being ill, and nobody knew it better than me. Debbie kept me plugged in from 1,200 miles away, and I will always respect her for having the guts and inner fortitude to deliver such rotten tidings.

In 2003, a group of us sat in the hospital waiting room while Mom had surgery. It was a very long day, and at the conclusion, after we spent the totality of the twelve hours dry-eyed and calm, when the surgeon came to tell us that they were able to remove every visible tumor—good news—we stood up, all of us. I looked to my glassy-eyed aunt and hugged her. The way she hugged me back spoke of the power of the moment, and I was lost in her tears and couldn't tell you for sure when my own began. My aunt has more spirit than most people will ever possess.

So it is on this day that I wish to the woman—who buys me grapes every Thursday when she shops just because she knows they're my favorite, lets bananas rot, never lets me drink a glass of wine alone, and always lets me sneak up with a hug—a very happy birthday. The world celebrates in your loveliness today, dear aunt.