It's my birthday this Friday. I'll be 43 years old. I remember when my Mother was 43! This Sunday is Mother's Day. I was born on Mother's Day.

I'll be leaving Thursday for a long-anticipated holiday with my daughter and her family. I'll be seeing her graduate from college. Hard to believe. I remember the day I came home, tired and bedraggled, VERY unsure of myself as a new mother, with this little lump with blue eyes and golden downy hair on her little head, wiggling and looking at me...As if I knew what to do! But she trusted me, so I pulled myself together and stumbled along as best as I could, learning as I went by the seat of my pants. Making mistakes, I also tried to be open and honest about them.

So much has happened since then. One thing for sure, there's never been a dull moment with Eva. She's been the most fascinating person to watch grow into herself. So many wonderful things to come yet.

Mom has often said similiar things. Remembering me and my sisters when we were young, when her and Dad were young parents. It's said with a mixture of happiness and sadness. Happiness because of the blessing of those experiences, sadness because they are long in the past, and so bittersweet when reality of her present forces itself in front of those memories.