Today I celebrate two births: my elder son’s and my  mother’s. Bittersweet, remembering how happy Mother was when Nathan was born on her birthday (the REAL Memorial Day, you know!).

Family. What really matters. More than almost anything, to those in mine. Of course, we define that wider than blood: the dear friend whom I sat by yesterday at a symposium, the man who was too late to join us at the table. The BFF in California, the mentors who have woven their own bright threads through my life’s tapestry. The almost-brothers, the not-quite-aunts.

And of course my mother, my father. My sons, my wonderful husband. My sisters.

But today? It’s son #1 and Mother whom I celebrate. Today I’m  remembering the ‘real’ Memorial Day. And that there has never been better mother, dearer friend than she was. How grateful I am my mother lives on in her grandson, whose smile is much like hers — wide and spontaneous, if less frequent. And how I wish I believed she could see the great-grandson who is so much like each of them.

Where ever the dead go, where ever their fragile souls wing after death, I’m sending love to my funny, incredibly beautiful, smart and vibrant mother. And to the son and grandson who take after her.

Happy Birthday, Mother. Happy Birthday, Nathan. You are two of my life’s brightest lights.