Hello 18

Dear Readers, 
Many of you have read about mom. Here she is at here finest! 
Thanks, as always, for reading, Elizabeth

Martha E. Walsh

Presence at Ninety Four
 
I walked into her room. The sun was shining through the blue and white sheer curtains. Mom was sitting at her white rod iron breakfast table surrounded by the last of her belongings, a curio cabinet filled with ornate treasures, family photos on every surface, and a red Christmas bow over her bed. She was dressed in her white jacket with carefully selected broaches, black and white leopard blouse, and signature tam, exuding elegance.  
 
She had an expectant look on her face like something was about to happen. It was a Thursday, last Thursday, her 94th birthday. We tied a “Happy Birthday” balloon to her walker and took a ceremonial tour around her assisted living residence. There were mostly congratulatory greetings, a few short conversations, and recognition from the aid who had dressed her that morning admiring her handiwork. 
 
We settled in the living room and read cards from her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and friends. There were many. It took a while. We got back into the elevator and retired to her room to indulge ourselves in hot tea and whoopie pies. 
 
Happy Birthday Mom

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