That brings to mind the time my beloved parakeet,Buckeye Bird,flew into the frying pan while you were cooking breakfast.I wasn’t supposed to let him out of his cage,but I had,and he burned his feet.I thought you’d be so mad at me,but all you could think about was getting medical attention for that poor bird.The pharmacist thought you were nuts when you asked what brand of antibiotic cream he would recommend to rub on a parakeet’s feet.
Speaking of funny animal stories,do you recall when my pet hamster,Brownie,got stuck in the dryer hose?You called Sears,where you’d purchased the clothes dryer,to ask how we might get him out of the predicament.They told you to turn on the machine,and the initial thrust of air would push him through.We did,and Brownie the Hamster Cannonball flew through the air.Daddy caught him in his baseball glove.It was hard to believe,but the exploding hamster lived to see another day!
Which reminds me...do you recollect the time I blew up the stove while trying to earn my Girl Scout cooking badge?It took a year for my eyebrows and eyelashes to grow back.You slept with me that night and told me that it wasn’t my fault.Still,it was a long time before you left me alone in the kitchen.
I never told you this before,but after my baking fiasco,your own dear mother shared with me a secret about the pressure cooker she’d given you as a wedding gift.The first time you used it,you’d set the timer to“high”and your chicken dinner became part of the kitchen light fixture.Grandma told me it took Daddy a week to scrape it off the ceiling.At least I only lost facial hair.
Your mother must not have criticized you,because you never lectured or punished me for all the foolish things I did through the years.You said that everything was a learning experience and that as a child I had an active imagination and marched to my own drummer.
I think I’m still that way,Mom.And that is exactly what I try to focus on when your two granddaughters are yanking my chain.They’re doing fine,but they miss you.Both of them keep a photo of you in their living rooms.The greatgrandchildren,all five of them，will never forget their“Nana Virginia.”
You were always so proud of my girls.You never missed a chance to tell me what a good job I was doing in bringing them up.I want you to know how much your saying that meant to me and that I couldn’t have done it without you.
Your granddaughters both have your tenderness and your tenacity.I remember the time the oldest one decided to run away from home.She announced over dinner that she was leaving to go live with her grandparents,six blocks away,because I was much“too mean.”I wanted to lock the kid in her room.You suggested that I let her work it out on her own,that it would be a learning experience.She packed such a heavy suitcase;she made it just three blocks before she collapsed in front of the neighborhood bakery.The owner drove her home in the bread truck and gave her a dozen doughnuts.He still looks at me in a funny way.
Mom,do you think the lesson she learned that day was to always pack light when traveling a distance?It worked,though.She was too tired to recall why she was angry and too full of ideal doughnuts to care.
Recently,your other granddaughter was looking at all the pictures you’d taken when the two of you had traveled together.I’d forgotten how many countries you’d visited over the years.I do remember,like it was yesterday,the call got saying that you had to cut short your Hawaiian vision because you’d been hurt by a surfboard on the beach at Waikiki and received twenty stitches in your leg.Your granddaughter stayed up all night and tended to your needs.In the morning,she made all the flight arrangements to get you home.She was only thirteen years old.You were so proud of her.
I know that feeling today,Mom,when I see what wonderful mothers my daughters have become.
As for your great-grandchildren,all I can say is that they have an overabundance of energy;either that,or I’m getting old.A photo of the entire family sits on my dresser.Everyone looks so happy.We still are.I thought you’d like to hear that.It’s difficult without you,but I think we’re finally getting our act together.
It’s getting late,so I’m going to put away your things for now.We’ll do this again next year,promise.
Happy birthday,Mom.
