I have a birthday creeping closer, oh so closer. Not THE MAJOR BIRTHDAY like 65 but a significant one. How do we decide that some birthdays are more significant than others? This is a question I ponder.
I've heard people say, "Oh, my mother (or father) lived to be (fill in the age) so I'm not worried about turning....65, 68, 70.."
Once I hit 50, I started calculating my birthdays in terms of how much longer I will or have lived than my mother. Each year I "made it" passed the age she died, I was relieved.
Sound morbid? Or perhaps realistic? You decide.
Probably to a risk assessing physician who asks at what age people in the immediate family died and who in the family had what illness, my approach is realistic because it is based on data.
My mother died when she was 55. I was 14, the youngest of five kids.
Katherine is pictured above in WWII in Italy where she served as an Army nurse.
She looks good, doesn't she?
And here again, stateside after her tour, serving in an New Jersey hospital, hanging around until discharge. This is where she met my father.
But as every birthday approaches and I log one more past her last birthday, I thank
modern medicine, my own healthy diet and exercise habits, and Katherine -- as I
roll her into the celebration. When the current cardiologist says I can openly blame my parents for my cardiovascular condition, I nod in acknowledgement to my parents and move on.
I can't change my history. But on my birthday, I like to remember what I have in common with Katherine -- good hair, a sense of adventure, an excellent laugh, a desire to help others (nurse-social worker-therapist not so far apart), intelligence, and a kindness toward animals. She witnessed unbelievable horrors in the war as a nurse lieutenant stationed in Italy and beyond; during the Vietnam War, she bought me a Mother for Peace poster (you remember the one, yellow and black with the words -- War is not healthy for children and for other livings things) when I was 13. That poster lived on my wall for years (I'd show it except the copyright police would get me).
I love how my memories of her have shaped me. I wonder what she would have thought of a woman president. I think she would have approved.
Happy (early) birthday to us.
Love, Gail
On a different note, check out my guest post on the glutenfreetravelsite.com.
http://bit.ly/27SEMan
Even if you are not gluten free the site is helpful if you want to eat healthier. And I've enjoyed reviewing restaurants while we travel.
Even if you are not gluten free the site is helpful if you want to eat healthier. And I've enjoyed reviewing restaurants while we travel.
6 comments:
What a great reminder of Grandma Katherine's history, and a reminder for us to take care of ourselves and our health as it is so precious.
Gail, what a wonderful post about your mom! Debbie told me to read this and I'm glad she did. I can't imagine what losing a parent as young as you did would be like. I never knew your mother but feel I now know a little and a lot.
You do have great hair and I have always liked your laugh.
Kitty, as her mother called her, had a life prior to settling down after the war. And even then she had more life, just a different one. Health is precious and we are fortunate to have access to good medicine and the knowledge of how we need to care for ourselves.
How sweet that Debbie directed you to this post. I would not wish early mother loss on anyone and I spent lots of years in therapy reconciling the event. But it is part of my history and I do like to honor what Katherine gave me. Her laugh was better than mine but mine is good. My hair is probably better, though. Hope you are well!
I absolutely love your old photos, and this is such a great post. Thank you so much for sharing.
Linda, Thank you for your comment. I love the photos, too. They are as precious as my memories of Katherine.
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