If my mother were still here, I’d wish her Happy Birthday today for her 95th. She died 20 years ago this July, so sending love and warm wishes into the ethersphere will have to do.
I’m grateful that she and I had a little time, near the end of her life, to recognize each other as adults and explore common ground.
I wish she’d been born into an era more generous and accepting of strong, brilliant, beautiful women. I wish I’d asked her more questions. I wish she had not smoked two bloody packs of Benson and Hedges cigarettes every day. I wish we’d been kind to each other, earlier.
If you still have a parent or two, don’t wait until mother’s or father’s day to connect. It’s the stuff of daily life that really matters. From afar, the photo sent by mail or the phone call to check in. If nearby, the walk in the morning. The drive to the dentist. The favour done or asked.
Happy Birthday, mom.
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