by jphilo | Aug 31, 2023 | Family
Labor Day weekend will be different this year. For as long as I can remember the holiday was more about celebrating my mother’s birthday than celebrating laborers. Then again she was born on September 3, which was Labor Day in her birth year of 1928. Which means her birthday was and will always be a celebration of labor, though not of laborers.
Because Mom’s birthday usually occurred during a three day weekend, it often coincided with gatherings of our extended family. Though Labor Day weekend will be different this year, that much will remain the same. Our annual cousins’ reunion––there are 39 of us, a number that swells quickly when you throw in our spouses and descendants–– will be held the day before Mom’s birthday.
This year will be quite different in other ways. Mom left this world on June 23 and will not be with us in body on her birthday. Then again, our memories of her and of her seven siblings who waited patiently for her to join them in heaven, will be present in full force. We will tell our family stories. We will share favorite memories of our parents. They were all farmers and housewives and teachers, remarkable people though not well-known outside our circle and never, never showy.
Since some of my cousins weren’t able to attend Mom’s celebration of life, I will take the memory book the funeral home compiled for them to see. I’ll also bring the scrapbook, filled with photos of our parents and their parents, which I made the year Mom turned 80. How can that be 15 years ago? I will also take the birthday cake she loved best, homemade German chocolate cake. Not the cupcake version on the chocolate bar pictured above, but the traditional version pictured below. The cake is delicious, moist and very big. A good thing in an extended family as large as ours.
My piece will probably be on the salty side, not because I have a heavy hand with that ingredient, but because I will be crying as I eat. My tears will be good. Sad. Joyful. Healthy. I expect them to flow freely as my cousins who knew and loved Mom teach me what they already know. She, like their parents who went before her, is alive and well in our hearts.
Happy birthday, Mom, from all of us.
In loving memory of Dorothea Lorraine Stratton
September 3, 1928-June 23, 2023
by jphilo | Sep 5, 2016 | Current Events
Happy Labor Day!
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by jphilo | Sep 2, 2014 | Top Ten Tuesday
10. The beginning of September and the swiftly diminishing daylight hours threw me into a deep funk.
9. For the longest time, I could only think of 9 things for the list. Call me OCD, but I couldn’t publish this until #10 came to mind.
8. Senior moment. I forgot.
7. The computer died.
6. There was a power failure.
5. My family did an intervention, and I went off social media cold turkey for the long weekend.
4. I celebrated Labor Day by doing no work…which meant no writing or blogging for me.
3. Because writing never feels like work to me, I spent the weekend feverishly writing the Great American Novel.
2. Writing three books in one year led to a bad case of writers’ block, and I couldn’t think of a thing to write about.
1. I spent the weekend playing games like trucks, fix-it, garden, and yummy soup with our adorable grandson.
How was your Labor Day weekend? Leave a comment.
by jphilo | Sep 3, 2012 | Uncategorized
Mom turns 84 today. This year, we didn’t think she had the stamina to make the trip to the Labor Day Reunion being held in northwest Iowa. So in honor of her birthday, the post written for the occasion last year has been reposted below. If you read to the very bottom, you’ll find out there is something new to give a woman who’s 84!
What Do You Give a Woman Who’s 83?
Mom’s birthday was Saturday, and as was mentioned in a previous post, we (meaning 20 people in her extended family, including her baby sister, Donna, pictured above) celebrated in style with the traditional family birthday cake. What wasn’t mentioned in the post was my personal quandary that has grown more perplexing as Mom grows older.
What do you give a woman who’s 83?
Mom doesn’t like to be given stuff because once it’s hers, she frets about it.
“What should I do with it?” she asks.
“Where should I put it?” she asks.
“Do you want it?” she asks.
Kinda defeats the purpose of giving a gift, when she wants the giver to take it back.
This year, I rationalized away the quandary this way.
“Baking the German chocolate cake is my present to her,” I thought.
“Sharing my bed with her for the reunion weekend is my present to her,” I thought.
“Hiram sleeping on the floor for the reunion weekend so she could sleep in our bed is our present to her,” I thought.
“Hosting 20 people at my house for the weekend is my present to her,” I thought.
But do you know what?
Throughout the weekend,
the more I watched her listen to the young adults describe their forays into grownupdom,
the more I saw her enjoy watching everyone play yard games,
the more engaged she became during several rousing games of Catch Phrase,
the more I realized my thoughts were not rationalization.
Instead, those thoughts were the answer to the quandary.
What do you give a woman who’s 83?
The gift of your time.
This year, the sibs and I came up with something to give Mom. We had the signed poster she received from Kairong Liu, the Chinese artist she tutored when he was college student, matted and framed. We’re taking her out to supper tomorrow evening and giving it then. So shhhh, don’t say a word!
by jphilo | Sep 7, 2011 | Family
Mom’s birthday was Saturday, and as was mentioned in yesterday’s post, we (meaning 20 people in her extended family, including her baby sister, Donna, pictured above) celebrated in style with the traditional family birthday cake. What wasn’t mentioned in the post was my personal quandary that has grown more perplexing as Mom grows older.
What do you give a woman who’s 83?
Mom doesn’t like to be given stuff because once it’s hers, she frets about it.
“What should I do with it?” she asks.
“Where should I put it?” she asks.
“Do you want it?” she asks.
Kinda defeats the purpose of giving a gift, when she wants the giver to take it back.
This year, I rationalized away the quandary this way.
“Baking the German chocolate cake is my present to her,” I thought.
“Sharing my bed with her for the reunion weekend is my present to her,” I thought.
“Hiram sleeping on the floor for the reunion weekend so she could sleep in our bed is our present to her,” I thought.
“Hosting 20 people at my house for the weekend is my present to her,” I thought.
But do you know what?
Throughout the weekend,
the more I watched her listen to the young adults describe their forays into grownupdom,
the more I saw her enjoy watching everyone play yard games,
the more engaged she became during several rousing games of Catch Phrase,
the more I realized my thoughts were not rationalization.
Instead, those thoughts were the answer to the quandary.
What do you give a woman who’s 83?
The gift of your time.
