This photo I did not take. I did not take this photo because that’s my mom, small, riding in the little red wagon (her older brother Jack is her chauffeur). I stole this photo from my mom’s Facebook page.
Today is my Mama’s birthday. I get my love of music from her, my all encompassing desire to hear all of it now, my perpetual drive for new and strange and fascinating. My love of books, my trek through library school — I didn’t just go to library school like my mom did, I went to the same library school that my mom did. I get my obsessive love for the Carolina basketball team from her. I get my stubborn streak from her, the passion that can run me single-minded into an interest.
All of the good parts of me, my mom has had a hand in — even when I wouldn’t take her advice, I specifically did things she told me not to, and I probably drove her far crazier than she would ever admit to my face, even when she drove me crazy. She’s one of the most interesting, passionate people I know, and I am glad she’s my mom.
Happy birthday, Mama. I love you.