Mama’s Birthday Call

Mama’s Birthday Call

August is my birthday month and my family has a tradition of calling each other on such occasions. Since I have four brothers and one sister we sometimes do phone tag, and of course, my oldest son always calls me. But one of the most fun things is when my mother calls and talks about the time, place and season of my birth.

Since I was born at home—no doctor present—I always enjoyed hearing those details. My parents lived in a tiny 3-room house in the country and Mama would relate some happenings from that time. Once she told how she often sat outside on a big rock in the cool of the day because of the August heat. Another time she mentioned the iron bedstead being so hot it burned you to the touch. And of course, she never tired of mentioning that I arrived before the doctor.

My late husband, Carl, used to try and wish me a happy birthday at midnight but I always told him it wasn’t really my birthday until Mama called at the time of my birth. I actually carried on that tradition with my own children. I always call my son, Aaron, at 7:07 am on his birthday, and if Jay, my youngest, is awake at 10:36 pm on his special day, I tell him beautiful stories about his birth.

My mother is now 101 years old and still calls on my birthday, but she doesn’t remember as many details. I understand, but in truth, I miss hearing those little tidbits about my birth. So now, my older siblings tell me their memories of the day I was born. How they were sent away from home and which relative or neighbor took care of them, then finding a baby sister on their return. I know. Sounds like an old movie.

I definitely enjoy all of my birthday calls, but I cherish the one from my mother, who still tells me she loves me and still recalls a few memories of that special day when I entered her world forever. What a precious birthday present!