That We Still Are

This Blip is for my Mom. April 4th is her birthday and, for our family, her birthday was always the sure sign of Spring's arrival. Although I'm also an Aries baby, my birthday at the end of March was a little too soon to confidently proclaim "Spring is Here!" But by April 4th we were pretty safely home!

In her later years, my mom was not an outdoorsy person; in fact, there were about three days a year that she liked to be outside - and today was just that kind of day! Sparkling blue skies, warm with just a tiny nip in the air and a slight breeze moving through the trees keeping the air clear and fresh. Mom liked just this kind of day and would sometimes even make a point of getting outside and taking a walk as a sign to the heavens that she approved.

We lived in Eastern Pennsylvania in a big house surrounded by lots of flowers and flowering trees, and Spring's progress was always determined by 1) the onset of my allergies and 2) which flowers bloomed and when. By Mom's birthday, the crocuses along the front porch had made their appearance and were already on the wane, the daffodils in the front yard were in full bloom, the forsythia lining the woods had just burst forth with its bright yellow candor, the tulips in the back had already met their demise at the hands (and teeth) of the deer, and the big magnolia tree outside my window was threatening to bud at any moment. Depending on the year, the azaleas were just beginning to fill out with their bright pink blossoms, and the irises along the driveway, with their tall, green stalks, were about to burst forth with purple majesty any given second!

Spring was Mom's time of year, the time of year when we both celebrated our birthdays and the end of a long, cold winter that neither of us cared much for. Spring was Easter and family coming home and brunch buffets at our favorite restaurant. Spring was standing on our feet, singing the Hallelujah Chorus at church, smelling the Easter lilies and watching the ladies in their hats. Spring was when we saw an end to the school year coming and summer right around the corner. Spring was when we even got inspired to roll up our sleeves, sweep off the side porch and tackle the BBQ grill.

Mom was a New York working girl like me, and before she got married and left NYC, she became quite successful in her career at NBC in Rock Center. It's neat to think that we pounded the same pavements heading to work everyday in mid-town. She used to wear strikingly high-heeled shoes and always swore they were the reason for her foot problems in later years. She was a graduate of Duke University and used to talk about riding the train from Mt. Vernon in NY, where she grew up, down to school in North Carolina with the soldiers during wartime. She loved music and singing and playing the piano, and she supported every note of my own singing career in NY for many, many years. The daughter of a Congregational minister, she loved the classic Presbyterian hymns like Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee and I Know That My Redeemer Liveth, and we sang them together in church every holiday.

I do miss my Mom and still reach for the phone to call her every time we arrive someplace or are getting ready to head out. I often long for a moment when I could just check in with her again, simply to hear her voice and let her know how I'm doing. She's still here with us in so many ways, and I see her everyday in myself and my sister and the kids. For that, I'm grateful, and it gives me many moments of happiness. On your birthday and always, Mom, I love you!

"Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way you always used to.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be the household word it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it ever meant.
All is Well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are."