Family celebrations are too rare and it had been awhile, and of course, being the end of August, we had a very special occasion to celebrate. And so, my two brothers and my sister-in-law all came over Saturday and off we went to dinner, after they'd suitably oohed and aaahed over the new staircase.
"ooooh ..." "aaaah ..."
Sitting in the little Mexican place, the conversation and laughter flowed. There's a certain type of "speech shorthand" that families use, pacing and phrases that are so natural and familiar from years spent growing up together. Our family dinners have always been very lively discussions, switching swiftly from serious politics and world leaders to laughing about celebs or reality shows.
When our food arrived, we all raised our glasses (theirs, iced tea; mine, water) and drank a toast in celebration of our reason for getting together. It was a lovely evening and a great time spent with those I love.
This afternoon, I picked up a bouquet of flowers and drove over for my own private celebration. I got out of the car, holding the flowers as I walked up. What a gorgeous day! The sun gently shining, a soft breeze stirring the large lacy tree overhead, the lush expanse of green stretching in front of me.
I clipped the stems of the flowers, filled the vase with water and arranged the blooms carefully, making sure they were even all the way around. I took care of the cleaning and polishing, then folded my hands in prayer as the breeze turned and lifted my hair so slightly, as if she was caressing it. I let the tears spill today. "Don't cry, mija; don't cry." she said to me. But crying felt good, felt cleansing.
Mom would have been 80 years old this week. I love you so much, Mom!