Day 164: Point of Origin.

Mom sitting above the Koi pond, part of her garden when she lived in upstate New York.
She landscaped, planted and maintained the entire property herself.

When I read my mother's Guest Blog entry (Day 147), I was (as SNL's Linda Richman used to say) a little bit verklempt.

I thought to myself, "Everyone should have a blog so that their mother can write in it. They should be able to read things that they might never otherwise know."

Then I remembered a crucial point: Not everyone's mother writes the way mine does. In fact, I'll bet almost no one's does.

She's really pretty spectacular.

My birthday has always been about me, and it no doubt always will be. But if I turn away from my self-absorption long enough to truly think about it, my birthday is actually about Mom. After all, she's the reason I'm here.

She started walking and talking very early and never looked back.

I see her thinking about herself and her life in new ways, always pushing, pushing, until things make more sense. I like that about her.

Those lines in the Guest Blog, more than any others, gutted me. There was something about them that made me feel like she was proud of me, and at the end of the day, is there anything more we really want from our parents?

I've written before about how my mother instilled a belief in me that anything was (is) possible (Day 5). I've written about how close we are (Day 15), and even how she's turned into the patron saint of dog rescue (Day 35).

What I may not have spelled out is how much I love her, and how glad I am to be her daughter. On this day above all others, I appreciate that I get to be hers.

Back when birthdays were still a novelty ...