I awoke at 4 something this morning, and lay in the quiet of my room as the ceiling fan whirred mutedly overhead. The telltale sounds of crickets still chimed outside the open window as I breathed in the fresh air of morning.
I wondered what had woken me at such an early hour.
I slipped from my bed and stood at the open window, gazing at the darkness covering the neighborhood in a thick richness, like chocolate frosting on a chilly morning.
That’s when I remembered today is the day.
I was born today. Well, not really TODAY, but on September 9th some years ago I made my way into this world. I don’t remember this day, but testimonies of parents and doctors – as well as documentation – seem to support the fact that I hadn’t really come from the mother ship and I wasn’t adopted – the claims my Aunt Lori had been making for years while I was growing up.
Yeah, tell me I wasn’t scarred from that…
To me it seems that birth is the first great step you take; it also takes little to no effort on your part, either. You’re just kind of there, and the magic happens all around you.
Today was my first step all those years ago, but since I put in little to no effort, I instead wish to honor the woman who gave me birth, my mom, Kathy. I’ve written about my other mom, Arlene, quite a bit as she died a year ago, and had been the subject on many of my posts. However, today I wish to honor the mom who gave me birth, the one who cared for me as I grew up, the one who did all the hard work.
Thanks, Mom. I sure do appreciate it.
As you've probably noticed, comments are off. Would you please instead head over to my mom's blog and leave her a comment there?
Much gratitude.
