Happy Birthday! You would have been 95! That seems crazy.
One thing I can’t recall is celebrating any of your birthdays. Either I have a terrible memory or you let your birthday’s go unnoticed. It makes me feel a little sad, like did I even wish you a happy birthday? Did I make you a silly card? I’d like to think that I did, but I have no recollection. I don’t remember having cake or singing to you. Did you just blow off your birthday as if it was just another day, and didn’t want to make a fuss? I can see you doing that, but I wonder whether deep down you wished for some kind of tah-do. Don’t we all like to be recognized, even if it’s just a card?
Well I’m here to tell you, if you were alive, I’d craft you a home-made card. Maybe even try my hand at writing you a poem. I would tell you how much I love you and how grateful I am for all the things you’ve done for me. I’d get a little party hat and put it on your head and maybe even give you one of those little blower whistler things. I’d bake you your favorite cake—egads, I don’t even know what kind is your favorite. I’d probably try and find the latest style for someone your age as I remember your sister Electa telling me that when you were younger, you always wanted to be the first one wearing the latest fashion. I find that funny because I’m totally the opposite. I’d sing in my off key voice wishing you the happiest of birthdays.
No doubt, I’d do a lot of things if you were alive.
So here’s hoping, wherever you are, you’re celebrating like no other.
With much love.