Once, when Benjamin was very young, my mother came with us for a regular neurology appointment. Back then, Benjamin’s seizures were not under control, and my conversations with Dr. Gold were a mix of the good and bad realities that accompany mothering a child whose diagnosis puts him at risk for life-threatening complications. We knew that Benjamin’s disabilities were severe and that his medical complexities would grow.

While I don’t remember the details of the visit, I remember that Benjamin was happy. He has always been extraordinarily happy when he’s with his grandma. The only reason I remember this particular appointment in the blur of my collection of neurology appointments is because Dr. Gold made a comment that has escaped me, but I can still feel the awkward pause that hung between us afterwards. My mother filled that space with all the pride a loving grandmother could possess. She smiled, extended both her hands toward Benjamin, and said, “Look at what she gave me.”

“Look at what she gave me.”

At a time when I was fighting grief over a child whom I loved, but whose future I feared, those are the words she sealed into my memory.

I hope that in my lifetime I am capable of giving another human being just the right combination of words that will lift them up the way my mother’s words lifted me in that moment. It’s a memory that still seems to find me right when I need it.

A perpetual gift.

Mom, thank you for being there for me and for giving me the memories that will ensure you always will be. I love you.

Happy 95^th birthday!