Too Many Candles to Count
Your birth date just past, I think of how I couldn’t wait just six more hours to share that day with you. I like to think I made that first day a happy one. Those six hours were like nothing, and every candle we blew out together marked a joyous time, your smile one I will never forget. So many candles over fifty-five years. So many smiles you brought to me. I shared my first twenty-two years with you, and you shared your last two years with me. Our roles were reversed, but I would do it again, without a second thought. You chose your role in life. Without that, my life would not be the same.
The 1950s and 1960s were different times. Women’s opportunities were far less broad then they are today. Advances have been made since then, with, hopefully, more in the near future. Given those earlier times, I’m thankful for the role my mother played.
rivrvlogr 
Hi. thanks for a beautiful piece of writing filled with understated emotion. So few words so much conveyed. Have a wonderful day. Goff
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Thank you for your kind words.
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My pleasure. Happy Writing. Happy Blogging. Goff
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this is beautiful Rivr, I love the nostalgia and lovely message.
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🙂 Thank you.
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You are welcome! 🙂
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Touching and beautiful.
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Thank you, Steve.
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Ditto what your other friends said here. Lovely. Touching. Beautiful.
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Thank you, sir.
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As a mom, I can appreciate the love you’ve shown in this post. ♡
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🙂 ❤ Thank you.
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Beautiful.
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Thank you.
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Touching poem, Ken.
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🙂 Thank you.
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You’re welcome, Ken.
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Lovely tribute to your mother. (K)
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🙂 Thank you.
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Something I can only imagine… when a birth mother dies young.
But I can relate to all the women who became mothers adopting the children of the men they chose to live with (especially when they could not have children of their own).
A beautiful tribute.
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Thank you, Jules.
She made it to 74, the last 15 without my father, who died at 60. Too young for both of them.
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Sorry to hear your mother died so young. I’m glad she left you with so many gifts anyway. You seem quite gifted.
My father died young, too. I never really knew him, but he was an artist. He successfully specialized in oil portraits. When I took up painting seven years ago, I quickly discovered I enjoyed portrait painting the most. Possibly, an inheritance.
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Thank you.
And that certainly sounds like an inheritance.
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