It's National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day. Who knew? I always thought it was Ruth Voneta Ridnour's birth day.
I never need a reason to think about my Mom, hardly a day goes by that I don't think about her. But this morning when I woke up and thought, "It would be her 97th birthday", I calculated that she would have been conceived in April. What better month to begin life?
"And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest."
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I do know it was several years later before Mom would have had any bubble wrap. It would be from a package someone sent to her or left over in all the detritus of Christmas wrappings.
It would be something she would save to reuse. That was her nature - never throw anything away.
All the memories I have of Mom, whether of her birthday or all the other 364 days a year, are good ones. Even the memories of being disciplined I now think of fondly. They are precious.
And what do we do with that which is precious to us?
We wrap it in bubble wrap!