55 And Still Alive!

September 23rd I will be welcomed into the world of senior citizens. Double nickles. Old pooty.

The photo above is part of a greeting card book I saved when we cleaned out the remnants of my mother’s things. A lot of it was icky from being stored in the garage, so I went through it and tore out the pages on which my mom had written each of our names and years of birth. It was such an awesome thing to come across; I plan to send my brothers’ and sister’s their pages on their birthdays. It’ll be one of those bitter-sweet things, but I’m hoping more of the sweetness will shine through.

A Note of Thanks

A note I hold close to my heart.

My mother never failed to let her seven children know how much she loved and appreciated us. When she was in the hospital, she told me she wasn't afraid to die, it was leaving us behind that bothered her the most. She didn't want to say goodbye. Neither did we.

My Mother's Hands

I was cleaning out a drawer when I came upon this, a tracing of my mother's hand one of my daughters did. It kind of took my breath away. I remember the day this was drawn like it was yesterday. I don't know what prompted me to date it, but I'm sure glad I did. I'm even happier my mother signed it, "Grandma."

My mom was always a good sport about stuff like this. When my girls were about 2 years old, one of them was bringing her Cheeze-Its crackers made into tiny sandwiches. She would eat it and then my daughter would be gone for a bit and return with another. Pretty soon I heard my mom say, "Wait a minute, what is this stuff in the middle, anyway?" and then she just laughed and laughed.

Turns out my daughter was chewing a cracker, spitting it out onto another one and placing another one on top of that, wha-la, cracker sandwiches!

The thing that really says it all about my mom? She knew how much fun my daughter was having, so she kept right on eating them.