Ma's Birthday

It is our mother's birthday tomorrow. Yep, her birthday. She was born November 1, 1931, which makes her...um...well, you do the math. She wouldn't like it if I put the number up there in black and white anyway. She used to tell me that her father said she was a leftover from Halloween. It sounds like him. But in the church she and I share her birthday comes on All Saints Day. Now I know that my mother is not pure as the driven snow. Because we are both Lutheran we believe that all people are both saint and sinner. But I've come to think of my mother as one of the more saintlier people. Now, I know most people put their mothers on a pedestal and if they don't there's usually a good reason, like she is an ax murderer or something heinous like that. And I also know that we sometimes can't see negative things about our mothers because, well, they are our mothers! But our mom is a pretty good example of what a good person is and does. She prays for people--her prayer list is alike a bajillion people long and she prays for all of them! I can't remember the basic five or six without a cheat sheet. She tries really hard not to speak badly about anyone. Even when you can tell she doesn't want to say something nice about someone, she wiggles around until she comes out with something positive. I just don't have the energy to do this most times. If you're a rat, then you're a rat and no amount of spraying perfume on you is going to make you smell nicer. But Mom does that, at least most of the time. She loves her family: even the extended family that she doesn't see that much, even the family of our dad whom I think she sees something like once or twice a year. And she remembers them and their kids names! It drives me crazy. Our sister can do this, too. I can't remember all these people! I have to concentrate on the ones I see most of the time...I just can't keep those others straight. But she expects me to, 'cause she'll say something about Daisy or "the girls" and I'm supposed to follow along as to who they are and how they are related. It's tiring.

A few years ago I started calling her Ma. The main reason for this is that when I call the house and she answers, even if she can't hear who it is, if I say, MA, she knows it's me. It sort of like a code word between us. I like that. I could use more people in my life who have code words for each other, couldn't you?

So happy birthday MA! Live long and prosper as Spock from Star Trek would say. Have some cake and lots of ice cream. And say an extra prayer that you will be with us for another 100 years. Because I can't imagine an All Saints Day without my favorite Saint. Saint Ma.