Four score and twelve years ago you arrived on this planet. I didn’t know you then as I am your daughter, but up until three years and a couple of months ago I could say I’d known you my whole life. And even though you are no longer with us here, I still know you.
So many times I almost reach for the phone to call you with some funny or important news. Those last years here you rarely answered as you didn’t recognize the sound as coming from your phone. Or by the time you followed the cord around your neck it was too late. Eventually I would reach you and you would be sad because I hadn’t called you before. Yes, I did laugh at you, but not behind your back. Your son Corbin and I laughed at you to your face, and you laughed with us. Often I laughed at your quirks and foibles because I did some of them myself. As I reached my sixties I saw in myself more and more of you. Sometimes it was scary, and other times it was good.
Your daughter Nancy and I had a good time in Tombstone on Saturday. Twice we were asked if we were sisters. We never seemed to look anything alike when we were younger, but there must have been enough of both you and Dad in each of us to bring us here. I think Nancy got the prettier parts so I don’t mind at all. Of course I always say that she is much older than I am, but she, being a quick study, beat me to it the last time.
Your son Kurt has a lot going on in his life, still, and wasn’t available last time I was up there, but hope to see him in June. He is so slim now that I must admit to some envy.
Anyway, Mom, I love and miss you. I am so thankful for all the good memories that outweigh the hard ones. I am sure you are happy now, and I am planning on heading your way when I’m done here.
Happy Birthday, Mom