Our family had a tradition that birthdays were special family days. Mom would always bake a cake of our choosing and she would fix our favorite meal. It didn't matter what we wanted for dinner, she would make it.
When we were younger, we always had a present from our parents and cards from aunts and uncles and grandparents. Mom always made the day a special one.
As my sister and I got older, we realized that mom's have birthday's, too. We decided that we would get our mother a present, card and make her favorite meal and bake her a cake. We didn't understand why all our hard work made mom cry. As we sat down to dinner, she explained how this was the best birthday she ever had.
Mom passed away a year after I was married and my sister came to live with my husband and I. Deciding that I was not going to let tradition die and knowing what my sister's favorite meal and cake was, I set out to make the day special.
Her favorite cake was chocolate so I baked a chocolate cake and put chocolate icing on it. I purchased her a gift and card. The three of us sat down to dinner. My sister was so happy that I continued the tradition and thanked me for making her day special.
Over the years, with us all having jobs and my not being able to make a special dinner and bake cakes, we changed the tradition a little. We still bought cards and presents for each ones birthday but we decided to eat out.
My birthday falls in January, my sister's is in February and my husbands is in March. My sister would take my husband and I out to the restaurant of our choice on our day and she'd pay. We would take my sister out to the restaurant of her choice on her birthday and Valentines Day.
January, one year, we all went out to eat at the restaurant that I chose. My husband loves iced tea. They always leave a pitcher at the table so they don't have to make a lot of trips to the table. We had finished our meal and were about to leave. My sister and I were talking which was taking longer than my husband had anticipated. He poured him a little tea in his glass so as not to waste any he didn't drink. After doing this 2 or 3 times, my sister picked the pitcher of tea up and filled my husbands glass to the top. "There! Now you don't have to keep pouring a little bit at a time. It's full.", she said frowning at him. He looked at her and they both started laughing. I guess him pouring a little tea into his glass was to her like someone scratching their fingernails on a chalkboard is to me.
©Karen A J Rinehart
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