One thing birthdays always make me think of is my mother. She was my adoptive mother,and my birth mothers older sister, my birth mother having died when I was 18 months old. We'll call her Lila, she was a rare character and always loved to regale me with my November 16th birthday story. The snow was deep, the winds were wild, and the old car wouldn't start to take my mother to the hospital. Finally it did but it stalled on the railroad tracks and then finally moved along. You can see what this is about. Every year the story got wilder , the snow got deeper, the wind blew harder. Guess what I miss most every year of my birthday? All the old ones are gone and nobody knows my story anymore.
Here is another thing. Everytime my son and I would send Grandma flowers for a special day, she would make this little shrine, of the flowers in the center, photos of Mike on one side, and a candle on the other side. When the flowers died, the candle got transfered to the center, and a picture of the flowers on the side. It stayed up forever, or until the next one came, and every one who visited had to know about it. So Mike and I would always have a laugh about the shrine for the flowers and soon a picture would come of it.
So this year my son and his wife sent me flowers on my birthday along with a nice gift card. I sort of felt I should make a little shrine, just to send to Mike, but this was the best I could do:
So this one is for you, Mike, it doesn't measure up to Grandma's but I'm just not the Shrine type, I guess. Big thanks to you and Laura.