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Today is my mom’s 85th birthday. I don’t remember celebrating any of her birthday’s but do remember how special she made me feel on mine. White daisies still make me smile because they remind me of the yellow and white cupcakes she made for my 7th birthday party. She made us matching yellow sundresses and pinned tiny white flowers in our hair.
Our house was the neighborhood gathering place for all things festive because mom was born to be the hostess with the mostess. She convinced my dad that Ms. Seligman’s 30th birthday, the annual PTA Auction and the Cub Scout Bingo Night had to be at our house. I remember helping her make dozens of homemade lasagna’s and picking layers of multicolored candle wax off the coffee table. I believe that every purple polka-dot party favor, Partridge Family decoration and lemon Bundt cake was a symbol of my mother’s love for us.
She knew that she would ultimately miss most of our milestones and wanted to make the most of the moments she could share. When my mother passed away I was 15 years old, the thought of celebrating anything was not on my mind. Little did I know that it had been on hers! On my next birthday, I was ushered into a ‘Sweet 16’ surprise party that my mom had arranged with the neighborhood mom’s. It was a truly bittersweet day for me but I certainly felt loved.