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Happy 60th Mom!

My mother is a wonderful, fun-loving, sometimes silly, caring woman. Although I'm sure I have produced many of those gray hairs that she wears so beautifully, my sisters declare (and I don't deny) that I am my mother's favorite. No, it's not my intelligence, or shocking good looks. It's probably just the fact that I am her only son. And even though I have always been a wandering soul, almost more comfortable in a new place than at home, she has loved me with an open hand despite her hearts better inclinations. She has taught me by example some of the values I esteem the most, more by her habit than intention. For her example I am grateful.

But the most significant praise I can offer is for her unending service to her family. Her seemingly untiring hospitality and gracious welcome, her intuitive sense of making "home" comfortable with cluttered rooms of nicnacs, fluffy pillows for sleeping in, and hot chocolate or tea just before bed. And this reminds me of the following poem I include here in her honor. Thank-you for your "glorious" gift!

To Give One's Lifeby Mary Carolyn Davies
To give one's life through [sixty years] is harderThan to give it in one moment gloriously;To make each instant a brown willow basketHeaped with fresh flowers and ferns; to ever be
A cup of never-failing cool spring waterTo those who walk a dusty road alone;To succor with life-giving bread, regardless,Those who expect a stone.
To give one's life, on weary days and hopeless;To give one's life, hour after hour, and beReady to give again, again, is harderThan to give it in a moment, gloriously.



I love you, Mom!