Today I got a package in the mail from my birth-mom, Dianne. Strangely enough I knew who it was from when the postman buzzed to tell me there was a package waiting for me downstairs. Other than the huge gift she gave me in the form of the life I’ve had we have never been able to exchange gifts until now. I wonder what’s in it?
The coolest gift ever. Birthday cards – 36 of them! The post-it on the front of the first envelope says, “Dear Mike, Here are some cards for the birthdays I missed with you” At the top right of each envelope is the date from August 5, 1970 (my first birthday) until August 5, 2005 (tomorrow) and all but the latest are addressed simply to “Son” with the latest being addressed to “My Son Mike!” Upon opening, each card bears a brief note on Dianne’s well wishes, feelings, questions, hopes and dreams for me at the time of each year’s birthday with a brief update on her life over the year gone by.
The last card, the one for this year has a bit of cash in it, but I’m not sure I want to spend it on anything trivial. Perhaps I’ll get something that reminds me of this whole process. Until I figure it out the dough stays in the card.
Thanks Dianne. This means a lot.