Today is my mama’s birthday. The last time around I was behind in photos and didn’t get my happy birthday photo up in time. This year…made it by 11:00 PM? Little steps, people. It’s an improvement. But enough about trivial topics.
It’s about to get real sentimental, you’ve been warned.
I have a similar photo to this one that was taken two and a half years ago the day I moved into my dorm freshman year. It was an emotional day, for both parties involved. I was not one of those kids anxious to leave the nest, rid all ties of ever needing to depend upon two adults who didn’t understand my hopes & dreams. That bull is what makes up the ridiculous teen dramas on ABC Family. Nope, I was the kid who didn’t want mama to go and cried. A lot. I stayed pretty close to home thus far in my life. Being an art kid in high school secured the lifestyle that I had nothing to do with sports or any major activity outside of singing in my church choir. This move was only my second trip to Eugene, I had never been away from home for more than a couple weeks each summer for mission trips with the youth group.
Before our final hug mama grabbed a sharpie, took my hand, and drew a big heart in the center of my palm. I cannot recall the exact words she said, but it was something to the effect that no matter where I am, her love will always be with me.
It seemed appropriate to do the same for you, mama. I know I can’t always come home when I want to, and I probably don’t call home often enough, but I remember that day as if it were yesterday. And no matter where I am, my love will always be with you. You truly are the best mother anyone could ask for, I hope you won’t soon forget it.
Happy Birthday, Mama. I love you!