It was my mom’s birthday today! She turned sixty-one but it doesn’t even feel like that. She still seems like my mom from when I was a kid and when I was a teenager and so on. The slow creep of time stops for no one, and sometimes people get a kick out of that walk.
When I was growing up, probably five or six years old, I would ask how old my mom was. This was back in the very late 90s/early 2000s and, without fail, she would say she was 24. For about 3-4 years she would say she was 24 whenever I asked. For some perspective I only realized after a few years that you can’t be 24 for more than one year (trust me, I’ve tried), and my mom did not give birth to me until she was about 35. That always brings a smile to my face.
When I look back on it I know my mom is happier now, but for reasons separate from age, family, or lifestyle. She worked for the city of the state I grew up in for like 25 years and she had her big ups and downs. But when she retired about 6 years ago she started her long time passion: quilting. My mom is a great quilter. She started by making rag quilts, then developed it a bit. The best gift I’ve ever received is one of her hand made quilts. It will become an heirloom in my lineage and nothing can stop that.
My mother’s birth stone is amethyst and I don’t think I could pick a better gem for her. The violet mineral captures my mom’s resolute spirit, her unwillingness to stop loving, and the soft, sometimes lilac happiness that blooms from her smile.
I love you mom, with all of my soul.