Mumms the word
I’ve tried to epitomise my mom-in a few words. No easy feat to do.
a la mode
a Panache for transforming a lifeless neck scarf into an haute couture piece -an eye for detail that makes you a formidable fashionista Godsend.
Finesse in all you do: from baking bananas loaf’s salad Nicoise or cauliflower cheese.
Woe, the day a chef attempts a bake-off with you for he’d lose his hat, all his stars and wail, mamma Mia what a mistake ah I make a. I must have caught some disease.
Self-sufficient -you can lift your bed on your own, fix your dryer, paint your home, fix the boiler. Your tenaciousness growls especially when your body dares groan: please take it slow!
Talented at reinvigorating my moods with that eccentric, warped wit.
An example: the time you thought it would be fun to pay for me to get my entire face threaded. You laughed at my pain.
I love our giggles-the side-splitting snorts are hilarious to watch and hear. It takes me back to our flare nostrils days. Who could make each other laugh first?
Your loyalty towards me astounds me, your unwavering love for me confounds me, your forgiveness impels me,
Life gives us many hard knocks -your heart nor face betrays your past pain. It reveals your altruistic complexion. A reflection of your heart. When you give you to do so freely without seeking to gain.
I’m in awe of your spiritual journey. You think I’m not remotely interested in your opinions & sentiment. Your faith is truly remarkable- a tangible contrast to your ethereal temperament.
Remember how you tell me to straighten my crown, the world is in the palm of my hand?
Remember numbers do not define a person’s character, beauty or ability to achieve greatness. I see the talent and potential within you. You should/could become an interior decorator. No age or number can dictate your dreams, hopes, aspirations and goals. The skies the limit.
Happy Birthday, mom.
I love you xxxx