Happy Birthday, Mother!

My mother, 8 years old

Yesterday was my mother's birthday. She would have been 96. She was born during the Great Depression and had a hard life growing up in poverty and a troubled family. But she always said that she had it better than her siblings. Because she was the baby, they took care of her first. 

Times were tight, and often, there was not enough money to have much of a celebration for Christmas, let alone her birthday. She vividly remembered the Christmas when the Salvation Army brought them presents. It was a very special time. That's why my sisters and I always put money in every Salvation Army kettle we see. 

When my sisters and I were barely aware of when my mother's birthday was.

When we were kids, my mother's birthday was not celebrated much. We were too involved with the magic of Christmas to think beyond ourselves. My aunt always brought my mother a gift, but we never got her anything. I'm not sure what my father did. 

Fast forward to when we were in college, and my mother decided that she had had enough of not having a birthday celebration, so she "moved" her birthday to March 26. We were usually on spring break then, so that was when we could be home for it. We still didn't have big celebrations, but she always said our visit was enough. But over the years, we tried to have a cake and presents. 

My mother on her birthday many years later.

Fast forward many more years to when my mother was having memory problems. When she moved to a nursing home, we told the staff that if my mother said her birthday was March 26th, she knew what she was talking about. They kind of looked at us funny but said okay. 

So Happy Birthday, Mother. I'd like to think you're in Heaven with Daddy, celebrating your birthday whenever you want.