Forty years old. Not perfect, not the way you dreamed forty would be (did you dream what forty would be? I did, but it didn't happen that way, either.) But it's good. It's being known in our circle of friends as talented and knowledgable - and I know how you strove for that knowledge, how you worked on that talent. How much you deserve the acknowledgement.

It's that you're there for so many people, at just the hint you could be useful - the books you buy because you know someone has an interest. That you can be relied upon for almost anything you promise because that's important to you.

It's the way you connect with everyone you meet - the way you find some way of relating to them, somehow. You relate better to my extended family than I do, and I admire that - and I know you work at that, too.

It's that I love you very much - more all the time - and I'm happy that we can celebrate that the world has you in it.

Happy birthday, Jonathan.