69 years ago today, a sweet brown eyed baby girl was born. She was a tiny little thing. So tiny in fact, that she fit snugly in the palm of her father's hand; head resting on his callused fingertips and little rear-end nestled in his palm. By all accounts, she shouldn't have survived. Medicine in 1944 wasn't anything like it is now and babies that small seldom survived. And the fact that she not only survived but thrived, was a testament to the woman she would become.
Seems that her rough start in life has served her well and being a survivor runs deep in her soul. When life has been a trial, she has faced each hardship with dogged determination and held it all together for those around her when I'm sure she would have liked to have fallen apart herself. Never one to take center stage, she's the one working quietly in the background; the glue that keeps it all together with grace, a sliced ham and a big pan of funeral potatoes.
In her 69 years she has comforted those in need, sat with loved ones as they have taken their last breath and offered a laugh and a "buck up" when things seem to be a little too much to take. She's raised four children (who at times might not have been the easiest to love) into four kind, hardworking adults each with a sense of humor and the same "get in and get it done" attitude that was instilled in her. And those four have in turn, raised a pile of kids with much the same attributes.
Not only is she my Mom, but she's my friend and an amazing woman. She makes me laugh at her made up words and phone conversations with her leave me wanting to write a book of "Things my Mother Said" just so others can laugh like I do.
Today, on the day of her birth, I just want her to know how much I love her and how loved she is by all of her children and grandchildren. And I want to thank her for teaching all of us how to face adversity with faith and keep on keeping on.
Happy Birthday Mom. I love you very much and I'm looking forward to our adventures together in the years to come.