My mother turned 80 on Thursday. I was out of town, but didn’t want an opportunity to pass to say a little something about her. She proudly announced yesterday that from now on every birthday will be her 80th, leading me to think maybe 80 is the new 39. You would probably not guess her to be 80, especially if you saw her schedule. One of the many wise things she has done has been to always have some friends who are younger than her. She has a delightful circle of young (relative term) friends who keep her hopping.
I’m grateful for the many wonderful threads of her woven into the fabric of who I am. The best in me, I got from her. One of the things I most remember about growing up was the way she would find reason to celebrate our smallest victories, and I’m hopeful that I have continued that tradition in my own home. My mother’s love language was food and she was fluent!
Happiest of birthdays to my mother on this her first 80th birthday, and for all of her 80th’s to come.