Joy Luck Club

I knew people who were my age, some even younger, that passed away in their prime, and I think that death, for people like them, only happens by mistake, like in one mutative stitch in the tapestry of time. But as far back as I can remember, I've had this dread of my parents dying on me. Parents, I thought, were of the dying age at any given time because they are older than you. It's, like, normal.

Today, my mom is 76, and so far outlives my dad by 25 years.

Whenever I think about my little nephews who were sadly orphaned by their mother, my sister, 2 years ago at 36, I always come to realize how blessed I am to have a mother still, to see me through my failures and the milestones of my life.

Mom is like a rock -- a steady, forceful presence in my life. Where she could be too 'everyday' for comfort at times, then I go switching off, when I'm not in the mood. We have, after all, acted out our Joy Luck Club dynamic, I mean, what mother and daughter hasn't, really? Yet I am thankful to find myself in this place where I'm able to deal on both sides, having three daughters to mother on, while constantly perfecting my own 'daughtering' to Mom. And what an awesome tutorial that is for me, each and every passing day.

For 76 years -- 27,759 days of winging it in life, I wonder how many days out of those were the days she looked forward to finally be looking back on, while on the subject of me? Not a few, I know. And days, I hope, that didn't cause her too much of a heartache to regret.

So now, I look forward, and not really daring to go beyond increments of months at first, but really, truly, deep down in my heart, praying for many more years that Mother will be around still. I need her to be here as I journey through and look to her for answers. Please God, for I am not running out of questions.

Happy Birthday Mom. And thank you.

Filed Under: Love