Today is my Mom’s birthday. She was the first person I thought of this morning when I woke up.

I thought of her as I was driving to work and heard the song, “Lord, I need you.”

I thought of Mom as I turned my desk calendar to November 29.

I thought of some fun memories when our family celebrated her 60th birthday in San Antonio 31 years ago, at Sea World and at Magic Time Machine.

I thought of her as I took my horse pill vitamins that she loved to hate.

I thought of her as I answered a phone call from my Daddy.

I miss her “squeeze your guts out” hugs.

I miss her “get in here’s.”

I miss her alto/tenor voice.

I miss teasing her about her big purses, her driving, and her first name she never liked.

I miss watching Mom and Dad in their last years together.

I miss being able to call her and unload or share great news.

I missed her at our Thanksgiving table last week, and I know she would have LOVED it all.

I missed her in pictures.

I am grateful for my family that she and Dad created.

I am grateful for so much laughter between her and Dad, when Dad would tease her by “forgetting” her name and calling her “Helen,” or giving her a Reese’s peanut butter cup treat when she went “potty,” just like the treats they gave Natia, the dog.

I am grateful that I sometimes act like her and am looking more and more like her.

I am grateful that I understand more and more with the passing of time how she felt at this age, and I am grateful for the sharp pangs of regret that I now feel because I did not understand in my teens, 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s.

I am grateful that I am Rhonda Donda, daughter of Pearl Grace Johnson Ferguson.