Happy Birthday Mom

I'm trying to think of my favorite memory of my mother. Instead I think of the most comforting.

I had a lot of bad dreams as a kid. Very vivid, very terrifying, very real. Some of them made me do weird things.

Once in the middle of the night my mother found me in the bathroom, on my knees, praying with my head on the cold sink.

In my mind was a horrible reaper. I remember it to this day. His image seared into me, and me wishing to get rid of it.

Dear God, I asked. Dear God.

Eventually Mom hugged it right out of me, as she always did, and I was back to bed.

And last Friday it was her birthday, and of course I'm so wrapped up in my laptop crashing that I don't mention her birthday until after I get The Email. You know, The One That Mentions The Thing You Haven't Brought Up. And I'm real, real bad with holidays, anniversaries, birthdays...

It's late, I'm tired, I just wanted to get this out there.

Thank you Mom, for all the nightmares you chased away. And Happy Birthday. I love you.

And the things you can't remember
Tell the things you can't forget