So my mom sent me a b’day present from the other side...

Current mood: blessed

The other day on my birthday when I got home from work, I noticed there was a single newspaper page lying on the ground in front of our front porch. I had my hands full as usual, so I didn't stop to pick it up, but I noticed it had some comics on it. The thought crossed my mind, "Maybe there's a Jumble on it." (The Jumble is only my favorite word game ever and something my mom and I used to do together ALL the time from childhood to adulthood. I may lack confidence in a lot of areas when it comes to being good at things, but I can say with confidence that I am damn good at the Jumble and can usually finish them in 30 seconds. I even used to make them up myself and give to her to solve.) I had intended to go back outside to get the page later and forgot. And then the same thing happened again the next night. I think maybe part of me was afraid to pick it up - I wanted so bad for there to be a Jumble on that page because that would mean to me that my mom had placed it there on my birthday especially for me...and I knew I'd be a bit let down if it weren't on there.

But last night, I finally picked it up. And, you guessed it, there was a Jumble. The newspaper page was all yellowed and dirty, but I brought it inside and promptly did the puzzle. I think that was the fastest I have EVER finished one. The date on the page was not my birthday, nor was it even recent. It was dated December 7, 2007. That date means nothing to me other than the fact that I think it's pretty safe to say it's a VERY odd coincidence to suddenly find a very old, very random single piece of newspaper on the ground in front of my house on my birthday like it was waiting for me to find it. And it didn't blow away in almost three days of being on the ground.

Thanks, Mom, for bringing me into the world...you were my first love and the very reason I have a birthday at all. Thank you for finding a way to send me a birthday present...you always made a big deal out of my birthday every year, and this one was no exception. I miss doing the Jumble with you, but I think of you every time I do it and remember how much fun we had together; you're the one who taught me the power of words. I would not trade all the beauty in my life even to avoid the pain. I'm finally so happy now, and I'm going to keep being happy. I love you so much.