Every time I wrote the date today, Mom,
I thought of you and felt a smile that tasted
like warmed honey move across my face.
It was a century and two years ago,
probably on a day as lovely as this one,
that you were born, gifting the world
with a strength and grace all your own.
Now, as I note this anniversary, my heart
swells with gratitude and love for you.
How I feel your arms surrounding me!
How I know, more deeply with every
passing day, how truly beautiful you were!
How indebted and grateful I am for all the gifts
you so generously gave to me, and to all
whose lives you touched with you gentleness
and rare courage. Happy Birthday, Marion May.
I love you, and always will.