THE POSTSCRIPT, Carrie Classon

Last week, we went out to celebrate with my oldest and most curmudgeonly friend, Andrew.

Andrew is a tax preparer, so even if I hadn’t been in Mexico for the last three months, I still would not have seen much of him. He makes a good living by working insanely hard during the tax season and then teaching and taking a few classes the rest of the year. Andrew is very worn out by April 15th, so after he had recovered, my husband, Peter, and I took Andrew out to eat at a favorite Italian restaurant.

We had a lot to celebrate. Andrew had made it through another tax season. I had just signed the contract for “The Turnip House,” and “Loon Point” was doing well. Peter gave me a small stuffed loon that calls when you press its belly.

“Whoo-hoo!” the loon said.

“That is so great,” I told Peter. “This will be my emotional support loon!”

“You are going to have to write more books,” Andrew said, cleaning his plate, “so we can do this more often.”

Peter and I used to have a neighbor, Joe, who made fun of us. “You two are always celebrating something!” Joe would say, and I knew he thought we were a little ridiculous.

But I think it’s important to celebrate the milestones in life. I don’t think a celebration needs to involve buying anything larger than a loon plush toy or anything fancier than a plate of spaghetti with an old friend, but I think it’s important.

Peter and I married late. Peter is 10 years older than me, and even though he solemnly promised when we married to live to be 105, we know that time is uncertain, and we can never know how much of it we will have together. We’ve now been married 11 years, and we have found things to celebrate throughout the year, every year. No matter what Joe thinks about it, we will continue to look for reasons to celebrate.

Andrew’s mother died right at the start of the tax season. I wrote to him and asked if it made it easier or harder for him, being so busy after such a big loss. He said it was good to be busy, but when a client came in who had just lost someone close to them, he said he would tell them about his own loss, and that was hard.

But most of Andrew’s clients have been coming to him for years. Doing their taxes, as he does, Andrew knows a lot about their lives and the changes that have happened over the years. Sharing his own loss with these people who trust him with their finances seems appropriate — even if it is hard.

Next week, I will go to a celebration of life for Andrew’s mother. It will be another celebration — if a sad one. She lived to be 94, and she had become more infirm in the last year. She had talked with Andrew about dying, and she knew the time was getting near.

We will get together and hear stories about her life from the people who cared about her. It will be a small affair, Andrew says, and nothing fancy. Andrew is bringing the food.

But I will be there for Andrew because he has been there for me. What Joe doesn’t understand is that we celebrate everything — the good and the bad and the unusual, and the inevitable. We celebrate because, even if we live to be 105, life is short, and it is cause for celebration.

To see photos, check out CarrieClassonAuthor on Facebook or visit CarrieClasson.com.