Donald's long lost track of time and dates, he thinks it's Tuesday today. (It's not, it's Thursday)

There's a drawer full of letters Donald doesn't dare look at but can't throw away.

The boys are screaming (again) and Donald doesn't know what to do, he's tried everything he can think of until he just sits down on the nest of blankets and mattresses and cries.

He loses time, and it finally comes back to him as one of the ducklings, his boys, (Della's boys), pats him on the beak.

The tears don't stop, but Donald tries to smile. It's weak and watery, but he tries.

It's not until three days later he realises. He comes across a silly gag gift, and almost goes to buy it before realising there's no point, she's gone.

He's one year older than she'll ever be.

The boys were running now, mostly running Donald ragged and it takes all of Donald's herding skills to get them to the park without incident.

He feels tired today. The world's a little more grey than yesterday. Grandma Duck has been calling a lot this week, trying to get Donald and his (Della's) boys to visit.

Not even the boys antics cheer him up, he feels all hollowed out.

He wakes in the middle of the night, one thought refusing to be ignored.

He's two years older than she'll ever be.

Gladstone and Fethry came to visit.

He's not sure why they're there, he can't deal with them today. (He can barely deal with himself)

He lets them in, but doesn't greet them, doesn't say much at all. But then they don't seem to know what to say either.

His boys seem happy, and there's a spark of amusement at Huey and Louie double-teaming Gladstone into snakes and ladders, while Dewey insists Fethry play with his toy cars. The matching looks of bewilderment at dealing with toddlers would be something Donald almost wants to cherish.

Fethry hugs him tightly as they leave, and Donald thinks there's tears. Gladstone pats him awkwardly on the back and they're gone.

He's three years older than she'll ever be.

Donald is prepared. Huey Dewey and Louie are spending the day with Grandma Duck. Donald is working.

He volunteered for the most exhausting job today, and focuses with laser precision. His mind is numb but that doesn't matter.

He knows what today is (Thank you Grandma Duck)

He doesn't lose his temper.

He still gets fired.

He's four years older than she'll ever be.

He saw the boys off to school. He's so proud of them, normally his heart is fit to burst. Huey is already racing ahead in his reading, Dewey seems to have befriended every child on the playground and he's heard Louie singing something in Spanish.

The houseboat is too quiet without them.

Donald's hands shake as he opens the letter drawer. It's jammed. It breaks.

There's a postcard from Jose.

The letters get shoved in a bag and hidden under his bed.

He's five years older than she'll ever be.

He wakes to the sound of something softly breaking, rushing into the kitchen.

There's three guilty looking ducklings.

Eggs in a frying pan, eggshells crunching underfoot, the faint smell of gas, (Thank goodness Huey doesn't know how to turn the oven on), Dewey is glittering in the sunlight, Louie is holding a bowl of ice cream.

Donald breathes. Turns off the gas, opens the porthole and looks at the boys.

They share a look. Dewey is hiding something behind his back. Louie lifts the bowl of ice cream. For some reason it has a tea light sitting on top.

"Happy Birthday Uncle Donald!"

Donald almost bursts into tears.

"You boys…" he can barely get the words out.

"Sorry about breakfast…" Huey starts.

"We made a card!" Dewey declares, thrusting forward a card that rains glitter.

"And there's ice cream!" Louie shouts, "but we couldn't find matches to light the candle…"

Donald laughs and hugs them. "This is the best birthday ever."

He's six years older than she'll ever be.