Every day holds a memory
Birthdays are more special since Mum passed softly away. Now they're a day for celebrating her life, not mine.
I clearly recall memories of noisy parties with small friends. On my seventh birthday, my sister baked me a birthday cake in the shape of a seven, covered in a rainbow of smarties. I still see the bright golden lion brooch that Mum gave me, sparkling.
And now Mum's no longer here, I recall the sweetest of memories of her simply being my Mum.