Sunday, April 11, 2010
My mother turned 83 today. It's almost impossible for me to conceive of my parents being in their 80s, although I see them every day and I know, on a certain level, that they are, as my father says, octogenarians.
My uncle Max (that's him on the left) and my brother Stephen came into town for her birthday. We're all heading over to another brother's house later today. We'll all gather, eat, maybe play a few hands of cards.
And while I find it hard to grasp that my parents are in their 80s, I am, each and every day, tremendously grateful that they are here and painfully aware of the passing of time. I want many more years of perfect spring days under redbud trees, more afternoons spent speaking of everything and nothing, more Tuesday evening card games.
Many, many more birthdays.