Mom's Heavenly Birthday

 

I just got back from Maggie’s second walk of the day. It’s a beautiful, sunny morning and it’s supposed to get up to a high of 74° today. However, when I referenced my Apple watch for the current temperature at my location, I was given the information that it was only 54°.

 

So then I played the Coat Guessing Game. I opened the closet door, spun the wheel and asked: do I wear the jean jacket? The winter jacket that’s not as heavy as the winter coat? Or just the thin windbreaker?

 

Probably I need to consult more than my Apple Watch because wind velocity also plays a crucial factor in the Coat Guessing Game.

 

This time I guessed wrong. Oh, who am I kidding? I guess wrong a lot. I’m either sweating or shivering on any given day – and sometimes I can be both on the same day. Heck, sometimes on the same walk!

 

I opted for my winter jacket, which would have been fine if it had been windy – but there was not a puff of breeze to be had.

 

So I sweated while walking the dog and chose to cut it short lest I melt into a big puddle on the sidewalk. I mean, I don’t want to ruin my “Incidences of Losing Maggie” record here. Which I’m proud to say remains at “Zero.”

 

But, I contemplated life during my walk, which is always an interesting exercise. And, today, I thought about my mom.

 

See, today would have been her 98^th birthday. So as I walked along, I thought about her. I thanked God for her being born. For being my mom. For loving me. And I thought about all the birthday celebrations we had for her through the years since she lived to just shy of her 96th birthday. 

 

Not that we had major bashes for her. Mom was not exactly the sort of person who wanted a big deal made about turning another year older. She was far too pragmatic. And birthdays were just another day.

 

But when she got older, I have fond memories of celebrating mom on her special day either in Columbus or in Alliance. And when she moved to the Glen at Parkside, my sister and brothers were sometimes here to help her celebrate. Or Vince and I, with balloons and flowers and cake in hand, were there to warble off-key Happy Birthday To You to her. (Okay, it was mostly me being off-key. Vince had a pretty decent singing voice.)

 

One of my favorite memories, though, is the year Vince met my parents for the first time. He and I had been together by that point for about eight months, but my parents had been at their cottage at the Cape most of that time and had never met him in person.

 

I figured mom’s birthday would be a good opportunity. Dad suggested we go out to eat, but Vince wanted to make a good impression, so he said he’d handle the kitchen duties.

 

And let me tell you – he pulled out all the stops. He bought steaks to cook on the grill with all the sides and fixins’. We brought wine, of course. He picked out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. And a card. And a gorgeous double-layer cake. I think he stopped just short of jewelry as he didn’t want to overdo it.

 

(Where’s the eye-rolling emoji when I need it?!)

 

But they thoroughly enjoyed that dinner. They weren’t sure they had enough room for cake just then and wanted to wait for a bit.

 

So Vince regaled them with stories of “his Janie” as mom did a bit of eye-rolling herself as, for some reason, she never liked the name “Janie.”

 

But they could tell Vince loved me. And that I had finally met my match.

 

Eventually, he brought out the cake with a single lit candle and the three of us sang her happy birthday as she made a wish and blew it out. Vince told me to sit – that he’d bring the cake to the kitchen, plate it and bring it out to the dining room. Mom called after him, “just a small piece!”

 

I had forewarned Vince not to cut big pieces as mom and dad didn’t like to waste food and were not big eaters.

 

So imagine my chagrin when he brought out these huge slices of cake. Mom was staring wide-eyed at the amount of cake on her plate while dad was busy wolfing his down before mom had a good visual of how much cake he was eating.

 

I was just shaking my head and rolling my eyes at Vince with a wry smile. And he was grinning back at me with a devilish, “gotcha!” look on his face.

 

The funniest part about the whole thing was that mom finished every bit of cake on her plate.  It was probably the most sugar she had ever had in one sitting in her life. So she was on a bit of a sugar-high as the celebration winded down and Vince and I got ready to head for home.

 

It was certainly not the last birthday celebration we had for mom – but it was the most memorable.

 

And I miss having them. I miss mom, dad and Vince. But I’m happy that I have such fond memories.

 

So Happy Birthday in heaven, mom. Hope they’re plying you with lots of birthday cake. And wine.

 

And I’m sending you a virtual hug from here. Give one to dad and my Vince, too, would you? xo