Reflections On My Birthday
I’ve always thought our Moms should be celebrated on the day we mark as the anniversary of our birth.
After all, I didn’t do ANYTHING on March 8, 1970, except emerge into this world premature, 5 pounds, and sick.
❤️ Mom was the one who did all the work, who carried me in her womb, who endured the nausea I plagued her with, who stayed alive while both of us struggled those first few weeks — me in an incubator, her in your hospital bed.
SHE did the birthing, so really, shouldn’t it be happy birth day to HER, wherever she is? ❤️
⭐️ Still, I own and celebrate this day, because while she did the BIRTHING, I do the LIVING, and that is no small thing.
👉 If you are reading this, you have touched this one life and you have given me the honor of being in yours.
Happy day to you. Keep living until you don’t.
Let me know how you plan to embrace life on your birthday — and beyond.