Saturday, September 1, 2012

happy birthday, Mom

(This post is borrowed from one year ago.)

Hey, Mom. Today you would have been 87 years old. It's hard to imagine you that old, because when you left us, you were younger than I am now.

I still miss you. Not a day has gone by in the past 33 years that you haven't come to my mind. How I would love to call you (or email!) and share something about the kids. You would be so proud of David, Dan, Mark and Katie, and Jenny and Jill, too. You would have built tender relationships with them. You were such a warm and relational person.

You always looked forward to grandchildren and now I know why, with three of my own. You somehow knew the precious love they would bring to a grandmother's heart. You'd be a great-grandmother now to three little girls! Not sure you even thought ahead that far. But I am sure of one thing.

Through the short 24 years we had, you taught me to laugh at myself, not others. To listen to my children. To love my husband. To care for neighbors and love the unlovable. To try new things. That life is short and a few dirty dishes or dusty shelves mean a lot less than time spent with my children. And in the end, if our time on earth is shorter than we hoped, to have no regrets in how we lived.

Thank you for all you taught me. I love you, Mom. Thanks for loving me.

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