chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

May 30

1962 - DAKIt’s my mother’s birthday. She has missed the party for the last 13 years, but I have little doubt that she’s blushing over candles and attention wherever she is. Although she pretended otherwise, she loved being the focus of celebrations and for years (until it became a Monday holiday) was quietly resentful of Memorial Day, which shared — and put a sobering crimp in — her birthday.

She would be happy to know that I’m thinking about her, and that today I put away the down comforters and covered the beds with quilts her mother made. She would be pleased that I use her Revere-ware pan, her colorful Mexican napkins and her grandfather’s champagne flutes. She would be proud that I write about her, that I contemplate her artwork and examine the many photographs that trace the longitude of her life.

These are hardly gifts at all, small pleasures I can grant her too late. But her happiness, in whatever measure, in whatever dimension, is a gift I imagine for us both. Happy Birthday, Dorothy.

5 responses to “May 30

  1. Lena Rivkin May 30, 2015 at 9:49 am

    I found this very moving-and beautifully expressed, as always. xo

  2. Catherine Hillenbrand May 30, 2015 at 9:42 pm

    Happy Birthday Dorothy! and love to you judy!

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