Momma’s birthday was always a special day, even when I was small. It was as exciting to me as my own, except that Momma’s was exciting because I planned for weeks what we should do for her, buy for her or make for her. For me, even then, it wasn’t a drudgery to do things for Momma that was special. She loved life and especially loved the days like her birthday to see what we had up our sleeves. Regardless of what we planned Momma always was estatic and pleased with our choices. Momma always was fun, loving and appreciative.
When I entered adulthood I didn’t always have the time to give Momma a party or even bake her a cake, but the day was never forgotten; a gift was bought and sent or kept until I would see her, then first thing on the morning of her birthday I called to speak with her. Usually she and my father had something planned for her birthday, yet Momma always needed to know what I was up to, regardless of birthday’s, Momma always was interested in how I was doing.
After my father died and Momma and I moved to Arizona I began giving her real birthday parties. Each one was different and each one Momma looked forward to experiencing it. So many times on the day of her birthday she was anxious to just get it going!! Her best parties were her 75, 80, 85th and her last her 87th birthday. I was afraid to not have a party on her 87th for fear it was her last. It was and now this year I have all of these memories popping forth from my heart. I don”t know how many times I have turned for Momma, not questioning that she couldn’t be here. Maybe at all of those times Momma has been here and that is why I turn.
Momma was and is my anchor, a guiding force for me. So often now I know Momma’s little hand is guiding me through a task. She is here with me in all I do and tomorrow I shall be with her to share our memories of a truly remarkable person on her birth date.