Today's special.
It's Mom's birthday.
That special marker on the calendar that signifies the passing of another year.
There's really nothing special about any one day as opposed to another. We attach special significance to it.
A special remembrance.
I always called Mom on her birthday; each birthday growing more precious because we never knew when the cancer would make it her last.
It's been four birthdays without that call.
Four birthdays.
Oh how I wish I could call her this evening just to say, Happy Birthday, Mom!
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