May 20th. It's the day that would have been my mother's birthday.
It's a special day for us. We'll make a cake...I'm thinking this one...given she loved loved loved chocolate:
and I'll tell my kids stories about her. How she was the most kind, loving, gentle mother ever. How she'd read piles of stories to us, I'd pick Bernstein bears and my brother would pick Dr. Seuss. How we were the champion 4-H club for oodles of years under her leadership. How she'd sing the watermelon song. How she'd talk to her mother on the rotary dial phone with the cord that stretched from the dining room to the kitchen. How she'd organize parties at the beach and invite dozens of friends. How my dad would give her money to buy something for herself and she'd come back with gifts for half the town. How she kept coupons from 1983. How she surprised us with hot crossed buns one day, right after I learned the lovely tune on the recorder. How she was always there for us, 24/7, her children her #1 priority.
It's been 19 years since I lost her, but there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of her. My kids haven't met her, but they know all about her.
Always around her birthday, the lilacs bloom. Even with this past winter that went on and on, the lilacs are right on schedule. At this farm, we're lucky to have an abundance. So, we decided this year to do what she'd do. We'll just give them away.
He made a sign, we filled the bucket and we waved to cars.