Today is my Mother's birthday.
She always called her Mother, Mother.
It was different.
In Canada, everybody says Mum.
Our US cousins said Mom.
She said Mother.
And Grandma signed everything Mother and Dad.
It was different.
But I liked it.
Anyhow.
Today is MY Mother's birthday.
She is one amazing woman.
Mother of five.
Even if we are a little odd.
Wife to an equally amazing man.
Aren't they cute?
Missionary (x3 or 4 if you count Nauvoo)
She has an amazing soprano voice.
She plays the piano.
I have lots of great memories revolving around my Mother and music.
We played a duet on the piano on stage at the Ward Christmas Dinner Party.
The piano was on wheels.
It rolled away as we were playing it.
We just scootched our bench forward and kept playing.
(I'm pretty sure Dad rushed up and stood behind it to anchor it in place... right?)
(She broke her wrist on their wedding anniversary, so we practiced while she was wearing a cast!)
She is friend to many.
Many.
Many.
I think the truest testimony of my Mother and what she has done with her life
lived in a giant crystal punch bowl on the stereo in the dining room.
When she was diagnosed with breast cancer
her mailbox was filled with cards.
Get Well cards.
From friends.
Each card held not only wishes for her health, but also a personal story about
a time she had done something special for them.
Each card.
The bowl was full to overflowing.
My Mother is Amazing.
And she is Loved.
By Many.
And I count myself as one of them.
Happy Birthday Mom!
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