That's the Glory of Love

Tomorrow would be Momma's 66th birthday. More than all those firsts in the time since her passing, this one seems the most personal. 

All the other days had distractions - holidays to be celebrated, family to see, other bright moments on which we could focus our attention. Her birthday, though, is all hers. The 29th has always just been her day, late September synonymous in our little family with celebrating her and all that she was to us. 

Last year, we celebrated and celebrated. We threw a surprise party for her 65th. Family came from the opposite coast, dear friends kept secrets for months, and those she treasured sent cards and notes telling stories of their lives together. When she walked in the door and saw everyone there, she cried. She cried and hugged and laughed and cried some more. We had debated not doing it - maybe we should wait until 70? Or, channel all our energy into her retirement party? We never imagined she wouldn't make it to either of those milestones. 

Now, looking back, how thankful I am that we threw her the party. That two months to the day before her stroke all those she loved were able to let her know how much she meant to them. How much she was loved. And cherished. And valued. 

We have always been a little over the top on birthdays in our family. Parties have been big and presents planned for months. They seem all the more important now, as does each day. We are not promised tomorrow, let alone the next milestone to celebrate. So tomorrow, I am going to celebrate. Celebrate the 65+ years we had her. The 29 years I had her. All that was wonderful and amazing and totally unique about her. 

B and I are going to go to the park and breath in the fall air, talk about the leaves changing, and remember all Momma loved about this time of year. We will read the fall books she sent B last year, holding tight to the inscriptions on the inside cover so lovingly written for her youngest granddaughter. 

I might even watch Beaches with a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, remembering all the times of my childhood we curled up together under a blanket on a rainy day, crying our eyes out the minute Barbara Hershey couldn't make it up the stairs. Momma would always pause it (okay, technically tell me to pause it because she didn't know how) and sigh deeply. "I just wish she could live. Her baby needs her. I just wish she could live."

Me too, Momma. Me too. 

You've got to give a little, take a little

And let your poor heart break a little

That's the story of, that's the glory of love

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little

Before the clouds roll by a little

That's the story of, that's the glory of love

As long as there's the two of you

You've got the world and all its charms

And when the world is through with you

You've got each other's arms

You've got to win a little, lose a little

And always have the blues a little

That's the story of, that's the glory of love

As long as there's the two of you

You've got the world and all its charms

And when the world is through with you

You've got each other's arms

You've got to win a little, lose a little

And always have the blues a little

That's the story of, that's the glory of love

That's the story of, that's the glory of love

65th Birthday Pictures courtesy of the wonderfully talented Lindsay Collette
Lyrics from "The Glory of Love" - One of Momma's favorite scenes from Beaches