remembering mom

Today would have been my mom's eighty-sixth birthday. In celebration of her life, Michael and I are going out to eat Chinese food, which was probably my mom's favorite kind of cuisine. It'll be on me, so I can carry on my mom's tradition of pleasing her loved ones by treating them to dinner.

I'll toast to the many times, when I was in high school and home from college, she took me to the Ming Tree restaurant for a savory almond chicken lunch, or to Best Wok for cashew chicken with sauteed broccoli. I'll remember her smile from across the table and the way she held my hand, which will take me back to the nights I used to brush her hair before bed, then sometimes get in with her and fall asleep, my little legs dangling over her hip.

I'm missing Mom terribly, even though these past several years, because of Alzheimer's, she's been leaving me by degrees.

Happy Birthday Mom. I'll look for you in the stars tonight and imagine you're the brightest one that twinkles.

Harriette May Shake, November 6, 1929 - October 3, 2015