When you become a parent, your whole perspective on birthdays changes.
No longer is your own birthday important...
You would much rather celebrate the days that you gave birth to your children...
Your child's birthday is really when you want to celebrate together.
And...I get this now, since our nest is empty.
My birthday is just another day.
And...I also understand how strongly my mom felt about spending my birthday with me.
We would visit her on her birthday, but she didn't care about that...
she wanted to visit me on my birthday!
Some of you might remember this post from my birthday in 2010...
the year we moved Mom from her own place to an assisted living facility.
Most of you know that I celebrated my birthday about two weeks ago.
This year I celebrated with my mom.
I had taken her to her eye doctor's appointment, complete with dilatation,
So after our little birthday dinner, she gave me a card.
Inside was this scrappy piece of paper...
You see, the folks that grew up during the depression saved everything.
But when I turned the paper over, there was typing...
I immediately recognized the font.
She must have typed it years ago, on her first typewriter.
The same typewriter that she used to type the local news column every Monday.
The same typewriter that I used to type research papers in high school.