Happy Birthday, Mom

My mommy would have been 74 today. She passsed away in January of 2000 of a liver disease that we still believe was caused by all the Motrin the doctors had her on. She was in a lot of pain. But she still managed to be cheerful through it all. Or at least every time I talked to her.

I find myself turning into my mother.

My oldest sister used to look down on me because of that, but I'm not sure it's a bad thing. After all, she's kind of turning into Mom too.

I decided I should go ahead and adopt the good mannerisms she had and things that she did

be kind to everyone
serve others
take care of people
love her family
trust in the Lord
faith
cook good food
seamstress/ crafter
doll maker

I should not adopt the bad things, though. I have plenty of those on my own (and no, I'm not going to list those).

Happy Birthday Mom. I miss you.

Warning (her favorite poem) by Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.