I never expected to miss my mom on my own birthday. This first year–everyone warns you about holidays, and special events. But my own birthday? I guess it makes sense. Tomorrow will mark 52 years since Kitty brought me into the world. It will be the first time I don’t hear her voice telling me about the day I was born. No call, no card.
So I will do something tomorrow to honor her. Whether it’s just a stroll through the park to take in nature, which she loved so much, or a visit to church.
Fitting to be writing an Irish tale now. It will be for Kitty Cullen, as every word I write is.