Today she is 70.
We celebrate the beautiful soul that is my mother.
As a young girl I remember her dancing with me while the Mandrel sisters sang on TV.
She taught me how to make chocolate chip cookies and let me eat the raw dough.
She edited my stories and woke up in the middle of the night to listen to my latest musings.
And now she parents another generation.
My girls have dance parties in her living room and bake cakes in her kitchen.
She teaches them about Jesus and loves them like only a grandmother can.
And while I always knew she was strong, it was on this day 8 years ago that her strength became our foundation.
Her birthday marks the anniversary of my father’s passing.
Their love story spanned 37 of the 70.
She still wears his wedding ring, keeping his memory alive for the grandchildren (three of whom were born after his death).
She loves him, breathes him, carries him; long after the world around her has let his image fade.
But, she is not stuck in the past. These 8 years have taught us that past and present can coexist.
She will not let his death be the end and speaks of a day when they will be reunited.
Her life is the greatest teacher.
Happy Birthday Mom.
Dad is proud.