My mom is 77!
My mom is 38 years older than me. Last year I turned 38 and then a week later we were 38 years apart again, which is pretty cool (but we didn’t dig into it last year because mom was in the hospital having lung cancer surgery). And now we have another birthday combination under less than auspicious circumstances.
During quarantine I’ve been thinking a lot about how my mom managed 3 unruly children, mostly while living overseas, and often alone while my dad traveled for work. We all turned out amazing so she got it right, but I bet she was as frustrated as I feel a lot of the time. She was parenting during a time when there was no internet (at least not in homes) and no electronics for young kids. What a world! She must have heard so much whining about boredom (not from me, I was an utterly perfect kid, but my sisters…). We had computers in the house from the time I was pretty young, because when my dad was housebound after gallbladder surgery, he needed something to keep him occupied. I remember playing Chuckie Egg, and fighting with my sisters for computer time. As the youngest, I was probably the scourge of my older sisters (again, this is their failing, not mine), and managing the relationships between siblings is difficult and mostly just breaking up fights.
But my mom managed it all, and came out the other side! Now she enjoys wine afternoons with my dad on their sunny porch, tea mornings on the back deck, and living for the pets (they dote on their pets). I know they’re missing their grandbabies, but they’re gamely joining Zooms together, trying out technology that’s new to them while taking the opportunity to see everyone they love on one screen.
So happy 77 to my mom today; it’s going to be another great year and just the start of many new adventures.
The twins help mom take her very first selfie Reading to the twins back in 2015 Tickling Henry (not Grant!) Mother’s day in years past Enjoying Duke Gardens on a visit to Durham to see us. Cuddling Grant when we lived in Durham. That’s me! Mom made my costume. Mom and dad out to dinner with us. On Mom’s birthday last year (after lung surgery, mind you) Celebrating Henry’s artwork. Helping me pick out kittens. Christmas dinner! Surgery last year. A pair of gals, galling around. St. Mary’s fest last year — must have been a Friday (they’re wearing red). Reading to Grant last summer.
One response to “Seventy-Seven”
What a wonderfully resonant story. Such life and times and personality. “Must be Friday, they’re wearing red.” Thank you for sharing. This kind of experience is what continually makes the world a better place to be in.
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