Ma never acted her age. She never sat down. Never stood still. She didn’t take naps like Pa did. Didn’t do “grown up” things, where children weren’t involved.
She laughed and smiled at everyone.
At 70, she still liked to skip and bounce. To go out for ice cream at 9pm. To throw big elaborate pajama parties, where we would wear matching pjs, bake cookies, and drink punch out of fancy crystal.
I once asked her why she never stopped to rest. How she managed to keep up with herself, when I couldn’t even keep pace. She said “One of these days, I’m gonna lie down and never get back up. And these are the things I’m gonna dream about.” Then she told me to go to bed. Because I looked tired.
She would have been 77 years old today. So I’ve been thinking about her…and all those things her dreams were made of.