Touched
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Today is my birthday and I can truly say that I don’t look more than a day over 63! I’m not writing this to solicit greetings since I’ve received a good many already and am appreciative of the messages and singing. I write this to tell you about my mother.
Most readers know that my mother, who will be 92 in a couple of weeks, has been in the nursing home for 8 years. It has allowed us more time together than we have had since I left home so long ago. I see her for nice visits in a nearby town at least twice a week and try to help her through this difficult final journey in her life.
Today, when I arrived for my visit, she said, “it’s your birthday!” I didn’t think she even knew what date it was and was surprised by this remembrance. She told me that she awoke this morning and knew it was my day. Then she worried about what gift she could give me. I’ve told her every year for the past ten that birthing me was quite enough. Yet, today she felt the need to give something more.
She explained to me that she couldn’t go shopping but wanted me to have “this.” She held up her little finger and pointed to her special ring. She’s worn this ring for as long as I can remember and I’ve always loved it. I didn’t want to take it, but could see that it was important for her to give it.
It took considerable effort and hand crème to get the ring off her finger, horribly gnarled by arthritis, but she was determined. Then I worried whether it would even fit me – it did. It fits my little finger just as it did hers and her actions touched me more deeply than she will probably ever know.
Of course she has touched me deeply before. I still her voice at times when I’m making a decision or need to turn a corner. As an only child, I received all the nurturing and encouragement she had to give. Now, as very slow dance partners, the lead has changed from her to me, but we both know where I learned the right steps.
Today, I will proudly wear her ring and be glad that I am blessed. Thank you Mamaw!










