Birthdays make me a little sentimental
It was very cold the day I was born. My mother told me that when she announced to my father and her mother that she thought it was time to go to the hospital… all parties immediately scrambled out of the house, tumbled into the car and promptly left her behind. It’s kind of nice to know how excited everyone was about my impending entry into the world. Mom said I was a beautiful baby and the attending nurses carried me around so much that she had to insist they bring me to her. Apparently I was quite popular (that all ended in junior high school).
I was crazy about my mother when I was a little girl. I constantly kept my eye on her. She had a way of making me feel safe. I thought she was beautiful. Her hair was always perfect and she wore just the right amount of make-up. We walked everywhere together…to the playground, movies, library, school, and friend’s homes. Walking was a huge part of our lives.
I remember school lunches with sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and cupcakes or cookies packed neatly in my lunchbox. I remember freshly pressed dresses, white socks and polished shoes. I remember the Cat in the Hat, and “read it again please.” I remember her calling me on my fake princess telephone. I remember hot tomato soup and saltine crackers on cold rainy days. I remember how much she believed in me and that she would have defend me to the ends of the earth …all of this I remember about my mother who I still, to this day, call "Mommy". Birthdays make me a little sentimental.
Human life is fleeting…temporary…short. I think if I were to die today it would be a surprise but I believe I would be cool with it. I have some regrets, things I can’t change but over all I have had a good life…loving parents, a very close sister, a dear daughter, a funny ex-husband and other close friends and extended family members. The purpose of my life is ever evolving as I attempt to create more inner space for something divine…something beyond words.