Friday: Happy Birthday, Mom!

After my brother called me the other night, I started brainstorming something special to do for Mom's birthday. When she turned... well, a certain age... we took that number and filled a little book of that many things we love about her. My brothers sat with me in a closest in the condo we were renting in the mountains with our parents and wrote out things we love about our mother...

Another year we made a collage on which we wrote things that are beautiful about our mother on "petals" and arranged them into a picture, then framed it. She hung it in the laundry room... I guess she spends enough time cleaning other people's underwear that she needs a reminder that she still loves her family... or at least that's why I'd hang something like that where I do chores.

Mom is the best with birthdays. When I was younger, she used to wake me before school with a candled cupcake and sing softly the Happy Birthday song. She always asks for birthday lists, even now, because she wants to make sure she gives you something you want (this is both thoughtful and insecure... she doesn't always believe that she could figure out what you want... even if she knows you better than you know yourself). As we grow, wherever we feel our friends or dates or whoever are failing us, she steps in. As an example, I had this boyfriend one year who knew about the Sarah Brightman concert for a month or two, but made no attempt to buy tickets (her concert was scheduled right around my birthday if not on the actual day). Mom bought me two tickets... she strongly suggested I take Anya or someone else, but I went with my boyfriend.

She was right. I should have taken Anya...

Anyway, it's tough to think of something for her. She is rarely as willing to make a list for us as she is to insist that, even into our late twenties, we should prepare our wants to present to her.

I talked with my brother and a handful of others and I'm planning a group activity for the family while up in the mountains that might turn into a decent keepsake...

It's hard to give gifts to adults who don't give themselves the time of day to figure out what they want... they spend all their time taking care of other people...

You are loved more than I can ever say, Mom. No one puts up with people like us and still loves us after so many years. I can't get but so mushy... it's just a blog for gd's sake... but remember that you are one of the very few people on the planet I trust more often than not.

Happy Birthday, Mom...