Happy Birthday Mom! I hope that I am right… it could be the 11th or maybe even the 9th. I resisted the temptation to call Lynn and get the date confirmed. I am never too sure how other people are with regard to the specifics of a date. I am not the best. And while this is not meant to lessen the importance of your day, I am also always forgeting whether Dad’s Birthday falls on July 1 or July 2.
It’s just me…
And today thru the wonder of my mind I have transported myself back to when you were “Mommie Angie” to me… the way in which you always signed your letters to me… whether it was to Camp Western Adventure, Union College or Moscow.
I guess it was a “natural” name for you. Dad had given you the pet name “Angel”. I loved how he called you Angie or shortened it to Ange. Sherman Grant called you that on occasion as well. And to support your name Dad was sure that you had the necessary & appropriate jewlry. I can recall an Angel Fish pin (I think the eye was a pearl). And then there were all those gold discs with Angel heads on them (the reverse sides were engraved with the names and birthdays of the kids). And then there must have benn angels for your charm bracelet. Yes, you were an Angel.
And so… we already had a Mommie Soph, so it was easy… we had a Mommie Angie. I am not sure if the name was in use for Paul or Lynn.
It’s a sunny day today… perhaps the type of day when you would work on the rock garden in back of the house… just below our den. The garden was mostly in the shade and perhaps that affected your choice of what you planted… I can recall flats of pansies, some bleeding hearts, and then my personal favorite: Lily of the Valley… I loved their tiny bell shape and the beautiful perfume of their bouquet.
It was a modest garden, and the rocks were spaced just far enough apart so that I could spend time inventing games to play… negotiate a path, stepping only on the rocks, making sure not to step on any of the flowers. Although I am sure that I would have slipped once or twice, hoping the incriminating evidence would not be too obvious.
Although the garden remained hidden from the sun, once we took down that humongous apple tree, the rest of the yard would be bathed in the warmth of sunshine. And you loved the sun… Dad did, too. I guess I inherited it as well.
I think the sun is best in June, when it’s not too hot, not too humid. And we are having a beautiful day today…the sun shinning, perfect for planting rock gardens, perfect for birthdays… and on June 10th, always perfect for Mommie Angie.