There’s nothing like having a baby of your own to make you think about your own mother. It seems to be a normal thing for a woman who has just given birth to want to see, talk to, be with, her own mother. Sometimes that is not possible. But the bond is no less strong and the urge no less important, regardless of why it cannot happen.
Today would have been my own mother’s 83rd birthday. She has been gone from our presence since 1995, but her spirit is still strong and a day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about her for some reason. On an ordinary day, it might be that I will think about something seemingly unimportant. Not long ago, I thought about the steno notebook full of hand-written recipes that is now over 40 years old. Sometimes when I am sewing, I wonder how she might do this or that, or what she would think of my current project.
Today, however, my brithday wish for her is that she could see Hudson. Oh, I have no doubt she’s watching over him, and no doubt has nothing but approving thoughts about how his Mommy and Daddy are raising him. But it’s not the same. If I could, I would give this gift to her: to be able to actually hold him, laugh with him, play with him. She was known to kids, even those who were not related to her, to be great fun. And they all knew that she ALWAYS had gum in her purse.
Happy Birthday Mom, Grandma, Great-Grandma