Happy Birthday to a woman who had the courage to do what was right–even when it was hard. Even when it wasn’t what she really wanted to do.
Happy Birthday to a woman who instilled a quiet confidence within me–and not just any old confidence. The kind of confidence that straddles the right balance between tooting-your-own-horn and knowing you can do great things if you just try. And this statement is not tooting-my-own-horn. Or maybe it is.
Happy Birthday to a woman who is the apple of my children’s eyes. And for crying out loud, she should be. I mean, if someone allowed me to eat Goldfish in bed or have a Fun Size Snickers bar near my pillow in case “I get up during the night and need a little snack,” they would be the apple of my eye, too.
Happy Birthday to a woman who would never have allowed me to do the above when I was a child.
Happy Birthday to a woman who is so in-tune with her daughter she can tell if something is wrong just by the way she says “Hello” when she answer the phone.
Happy Birthday to a woman who consistently keeps it all in perspective by saying stuff like “He won’t go to college wearing Pull-Ups” and “Oh, a little too much TV never hurt anyone. You’re sick. Ten years from now, no one will know the difference.”
Happy Birthday to a woman who can still get pretty mama-bearish if someone hurts her cub. Pity the fool who says something negative about me. Pity.
Happy Birthday to a woman who knows when to speak and when to listen in situations that are just plain hard.
Happy Birthday to a woman who still tells me her door is always open.
Happy Birthday to a woman who asks questions like “How do I get my iPhone off of Speaker Phone?” (Umm . . . Mom? Hit the speaker button again.)
Happy Birthday to a woman who’s convinced I’m going to kill her every time she’s a passenger in my car.
Happy Birthday to a woman who still wipes my tears, makes me laugh, and knows just the right thing to say and when.
Happy Birthday to a woman who taught me to keep going, who demonstrated how to be tough in a life that isn’t always too kind, and who poured love over me instead of negativity– even when I so deserved it during the teen years. Despite my eye rolls while squirting on the Clair Mist hairspray used to get my bangs to reach the perfect angle in 1986, you still chose love over exasperation.
At least you did in front of me. I have no idea what you said behind closed doors but I deserved it.
Happy 65th, Mom. Don’t forget about your speaker phone button.
I love you,