Yes, my mom and dad have the same birthdays.
Days like these are when its hard to be away from home. My mom and I aren’t just mom and daughter – we’re much closer to best friends nowadays. She likes to say that me, my sister and she all lived in different lifetimes together which is where our close bond comes from. We just happened to be reincarnated as a family this time around. We are all eerily in tune with each other, and I am so grateful to have such an amazing group of women.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom was heading to her car after getting a pedicure and she was hit by a car. She laughed it off as if it were nothing, her first thought being “Oh, God, I hope I haven’t ruined my pedicure.” (An obvious first thought for any woman who just got a pedicure, and there is fear of it being smudged.) She went home, propped her feet up and went on with her day. However, further tests prove that its worse than she originally thought. There are fractures and torn ligaments, and she has to take, at the least, a month off work.
It could be worse. And, for that, we are grateful. However, it’s just another reminder that we can’t take any day for granted for it can all change in an instant. I love her to death, and wish I could be there to celebrate her – ah hem – <insert year here> birthday. Love you Momma, and can’t wait to see you soon!.
My Dad and I have never lived together – not even in the same city. I had the opportunity to go to high school in Mexico City, like my sister did, to get an International Bac from their British school system, and live with my dad. However, I had just gotten into Baltimore School for the Arts as a Theatre Major, and Theatre was my number one priority. (Sorry, Dad!). Mexico City’s high school didn’t have a theatre class, so I wasn’t moving.
He traveled a lot when we were children to various countries, cities, and I would wait eagerly by the mailbox for his letters. They came often and, in those days, were handwritten or sometimes typed on a typewriter! Emails didn’t exist and a computer was hard to come by, so real mail was the only way to go. He would send keepsakes as well – like a doll with wooden shoes from Holland or a bracelet he bought when he was in Germany. I still have most of the letters and keepsakes – packed away in a trunk in Baltimore or Charlie’s house in Long Beach. I have boxes with my memories scattered all over the country.
I still look forward to his emails. He now lives in Guadalajara. Dad, I hope you’re having a fantastic OLD man’s birthday. Cause let’s face it, you’re getting pretty old. 
Love you.
Love to both my parents! Wish I could be there!!
