Today is my mother’s birthday. I woke up with the sun, hoping to see the shadow of the moon from last night. “Moon, will you take my birthday kisses to my mom?”
It is raining.
I can’t see the moon. The moon can’t see me. Maybe a rain cloud can deliver my kisses?
My mom lives 2,045.8 miles from me. It would take thirty-two hours and forty minutes to drive to her home.
And if I could, I would be there to sing to her.
All those childhood days of living under the same roof are distant and fondly remembered. Even the days when I was grounded and wasn’t allowed to go the dance. I remember being angry. Now I just see love.
The stockings on Christmas Eve when Santa was in the kitchen and the stockings were empty.
Teaching me how to bake bread.
Showing me unconditional love.
Writing me letters when I moved away.
And loving me always.
I love you, mom.
p.s. My mother’s name is Berdeane.