I will have to do a birthday/SVD "redux" as our credit card was hacked and had to be cancelled. It sucks. I mean, I need groceries. Okay I don't need groceries, but it'd be nice to be able to go out and buy some flour and food coloring. So much for making my SVD cookies. Ah, well. I sure as shit don't need to eat cookies. Still, I do take this day off, diet-wise. We'll see what I can come up with.
I wish I could smell. I woke up to a gorgeous bouquet of magenta tulips and my favorites: Carnations! If I could only smell one thing in the world, it'd be carnations. These are dyed to match the tulips. They are lovely in my father's huge snifter.
I received a box from my cousin in Austin, Tx. She and her granddaughters sent me a plethora of goodies. Most were made by them. I wept. God, why do these people have to live so GD far away? I feel so close to them, though. As I opened each gift, I felt as though my mother was sitting next to me.
|First day home. I think I'm going to like you!|
As a child, both of my parents would tuck me in every night. Mom and dad took turns each night reading to me. I never felt safer back then. My favorite story was told my Ma. "Tell me the story about me!" I'd ask. She would pretend to be annoyed; I always asked to hear it. As she gathered my favorite stuffed animals (I had many on the bed, but there were two that had to be hugged by me: Gophie and my bee. I still have both), then tucked me in, she would begin.
"Well, once upon a time, not too long ago..." and instantly I relaxed. I felt that nobody else could tell me this story. Of course! Still, she had the perfect story-telling voice. If there is anything that I think my sons have truly missed out on, it is hearing stories in the voice of their grandmother. I can tell that sometimes, she wept as she spoke. It made me love her all the more. What I would give...
I started giving my Ma flowers on my birthday when I was around seventeen. The first time I did it, she simply thought it was a Valentine's Day gesture. Not so. I did give candies and cards with hearts on them to her, but the flowers were my way of thanking her. Thanking her for all that she went through to have me. For all of the hard days afterward. And for simply being my Ma. When I could, I gave her roses. One for each year of my life. Years later, it became yellow roses plus one red or pink one... for her Valentine baby.
I miss doing that. I suppose I still could. It's hard for me, though. I still get so emotional. I am so her daughter. She knows I still celebrate her every time my birthday rolls around. I am today, as well. Still, my mind trails back to the days of heart-shaped cake with the pink icing she'd make. I have tried for years to replicate it, only to fail. In a way, I am okay with that. Still, if I could - just once - nail that frosting...
Well, my eldest son is up. Think maybe I'll tell him a story.
Happy St. Valentine's Day!