Sunday, November 29, 2009

Living Legacy

I remembered. We all did. Cause we never forgot ... Today is your birthday. Seventy candles would have set your cake ablaze.

Instead you are forever fifty-eight. You will never be old and I think that would give you a somewhat smug satisfaction.

Your gentle words of encouragement, and unconditional, unyielding love lives on in each of us. We speak your name, recount your wisdom and your fiery, feisty moments - and laugh. You were cute when you were mad - mostly. And sometimes you were fierce.

Your diminutive frame belied your resolute strength, and towering power.You touched many with your quiet unassuming ways.  I want to be just like you, and try - every single day. 

I find myself wanting to say you passed before your time, but I'm not sure if that is really true. You passed before our time - we just weren't ready to let you go. But you taught us well and left us intact and ever closer.

We are your living legacy - your family.

Today there will be no cake, no fuss, no fanfare. Just a family quietly reflecting, nursing the space your left unfilled. I feel your love - but miss your hugs. And on this anniversary of your birth, I will say what I have said so very often before ... we had the very best.

Happy Birthday Mom.

More about my Mom


  1. That was absolutely beautiful auntie lynda... My mum and i had a good laugh and cry about this one... Man there was a lot of stories that i have heard about grandma roma but i have never felt as touched as u just made me feel. I miss her very much . Lots of love,

  2. Lyn,
    You definitely have a gift for expressing your thoughts so wondefully. This is beautiful.

  3. Lovely. I liked how you used fonts to enhance the meaning of the words. Beautiful, indeed. It is good to express such love, makes the world a better place.

    I have added you to my blogroll and have updated my page to include a follow section ~ thanks for the idea.

  4. Miss her everyday.
    Miss card games and late nights on her bed.
    Miss multi colour mentos.
    Miss her purple slippers.
    Miss her spirit.

    you're right. feel her love but miss her hugs.

    every once and while I wish I had her a little longer. I wonder what she'd say to me. But then again sometimes, late at night, I talk to her. I tell her what's happening and I think I can bet what she'd say.
    She was our rock.
    On she lives through us.
    love you gramma.


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