Today would have been my mom's 55th birthday. There's something that bothers me about that phrase like people might think that today doesn't have significance anymore just because my mom isn't alive to blow out any candles. However, in a way I think my mom would have been OK missing this birthday.
My mom never wanted to look old, feel old, and she definitely never wanted to be seen as old. Not that I think 55 is old at all. My dad will be 62 at the end of this month and I don't see that as old. But I also see my dad living for another 40 years and still being about to fix anything around the house at that time. However, the world must see 55 as old since it is one of the magical ages of the senior citizen discount. After doing a little research, I realized that there a several different ages that businesses and organizations see people as senior citizens. Some are outrageous enough to call someone that is 50 a senior citizen (including AARP, and you don't want to know what came out of my mom's mouth when she started getting stuff from them in the mail), but I'm pretty sure that at 55 my mom would have been able to get a discount at Goodwill and Kohl's on a given day of the week, get into a movie cheaper than someone younger, and get a 10% discount at Ace Hardware, not that she frequented that store.
So while I definitely missed not sitting around our table eating a family dinner tonight and singing happy birthday and carving into a double-layer white cake with buttercream icing from Marsh, I smile at the picture I do see in my mind: my mom in heaven looking at least ten years younger than her age like she always did with a mischievous grin on her face as if to say, "Go ahead, just try and call me old."
Happy birthday, Mom.
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