There was an elderly gentleman in my former church who sent me a birthday card every year. I was the only one in the congregation chosen for this honor. The reason was simple. I had the same birthday as his mother and that day just so happened to be his anniversary day.
He was in his eighties. And he told me once that he thought of and missed his mother every day. I thought this was amazing. Somehow I thought as you got older and time passed, those feelings would somehow fade. As if age could make you stronger, tougher, more of a grown up...
Today would have been my mom's 72nd birthday. And though it has been four years since she has been gone, I know for sure that when I am in my eighties I will still think of and miss her.
She is in everything I do. There was a time when I just didn't know how I would get through a day without her. We would talk on the phone every day and we would dispatch the latest ho-humness of our comings and goings. I would tell her the latest mundane thing the baby was doing at the time, and she would thrill in it as much as I would. Only a mother can do that.
When we knew the breast cancer would soon be taking her away from us. I knew that I had gotten through most of my trying times in my life because she was there for me. Now with the arduous task of raising children ahead of me, I asked her through tears and with great desperation, "What am I going to do with out you? How will I know what to do?"
She said with gentle confidence, "Don't worry. They will teach you want to do." And her words come back to me as they often do, with each child a different set of circumstances, a different set of needs. Somehow, I know what to do. (more or less)
I see her in my boys in ways I never thought I would. She has a silent way of making her hand felt in our lives even now.
Sometimes I feel extremely gypped. She was taken from me way too soon. My kids will never know first-hand her humor, kindness and wisdom. She would have loved my boys and them, her.
So I bought her a birthday gift....a little plate for her urn, finally. So everyone would know who is inside. I meant to do it years ago, but somehow never knew what was right. This year, I had to do something, even if it was wrong. I know she would say, "It's about TIME!" I also put a small dedication on there that says, "For your courage, strength, beauty and grace, we honor you."