As a child, I sat to the left of my mother at the dinner table, a table set for eight. It was a warm place to be.
Today is also a warm day, 8.8, her 75th birthday, and we will celebrate her at a table full of love.
As I type, it is still August 7th where she lives, but the table is ready, and the homemade pineapple-lemon cake, and my fifty years of love and thanks.
Photo: Picnic table in Masterton, New Zealand
1 comment:
The celebration table here did indeed have eight: six adults and two children. Lucky lucky.
In my childhood, it was six kids, two adults.
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