Today is my super sweet niece, Breanna's birthday. She's fifteenand a pretty excellent person. I love her dearly and can remember the first day I held her as an infant. The moment she was in my arms, she owned me for life.
When she first "became a woman" she called right away. I took her on her welcome-to-womanhood shopping/fun day as I had her older sister.
She didn't flinch even a little bit when I requested being her friend on Myspace. And she doesn't talk back or get huffy when I comment on the content of her page or comments. Sometimes, she even listens to my advice.
She calls (or texts) me every mother's day. Every year.
In the past few years, she's even remembered my birthday.
When I called her, she sounded off. Her friend who was supposed to take her for a manicure had flaked and so she had taken herself. I love, love that she took herself instead of sitting around dejected, but she did sound bummed. Then she reported her mother had not wished her happy birthday (it was early evening time) and did not appear to be throwing her the promised birthday party.
I am five states away. I work more than fulltime. I am mostly broke. I am in the middle of a sock knitting obsession.
Wait - I am in the middle of a sock knitting obsession!!
I ask her favorite colors? She reports: reds mostly, maybe some pinks and oranges...
Holy mother of heck! Damn blast.
Goodbye, my beloved first Broadripples. You made me truly love socks. Your colors enchanted me. I even bled on you a little, through my finally broke through the skin Knitter's Stigmata. Just yesterday I pledged you to me, me, me....but well, I know how to listen when the universe hollers.
Happy Birthday, Bre - enjoy the socks.
6 years ago