Today is my grandmother’s birthday. It would have been her 100th birthday, if you can believe that. But, she’s been gone almost 20 years. That just hardly seems possible to me. I often think of her, but it always hits me the hardest in August. With our birthdays just days apart, we would celebrate them together. And both of us Leos to the core, I am so much like her.
My love of books, I got from her. My artistic and crafty nature came from her. Probably also my stubbornness and sense of humor can be attributed to her. Both of my parents worked when I was growing up, and she was the one that was there every morning and every afternoon to get me off to school, feed me, care for me.
She raised African violets, tending to them and giving them special food and light. I can’t manage to keep anything alive, except for one mutant aloe plant, and an African violet. When it blooms, she is immediately in my thoughts. Today is it blooming, even without special food or a grow lamp. It reminds me she is still here with me.
So, today we’ll celebrate together again, with a slice of lemon meringue pie (made from her recipe). Every year for my birthday, this is what she made for me. And every year, I still savor it.
Happy birthday. I miss you.