It’s my birthday. It’s kind of a weird day for me, now, because it follows so closely upon the heels of my son’s birthday. Also, I’m old, and birthdays are a heck of a lot less fun when you’re old. You know, what with the notable lack of balloons and streamers and thickly frosted cakes and all.

But this morning my mom sent me something that brought me all the way back to my childhood, to the sweet, sweet joy of being young and carefree and adored by one’s mother. She sent me this. And I cried. Happy, happy, love-rich tears.

My birthday wish is that I grow to be one-tenth the mother she is, that I provide my own children with such happy memories, and that they love me as much as I love her.

And I will wish it every year of my life.