Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Yesterday I attended a surprise birthday party for my friend's mother, who just turned 95.  She was genuinely surprised, as they'd already had a nice dinner, with her daughter coming out from New York, last week.  I brought a huge cake, chocolate, of course, and there were about thirty people, including her grandson who came from the south, his partner, and their dog.  It was great to celebrate, and the youngest guest was four months old, a granddaughter of one of my friend's besties from New York.  The day was sunny, the guest of honor as sharp as ever, and the blue of her blouse matched the banner on the cake.  I'm so fond of her because she's smart and we can talk movies and kids and she has a great sense of humor.  But she pulls me also because I lost my mother when I was 40 and I miss her and her presence with my kids and now grandkids.  This lucky woman has seen her kids marry, have children and now two of her four grandchildren are about to marry.  All of her grandchildren dote on her, and she is cosy in the house of her older daughter, and part of a lively life surrounded by people of all ages.  I wish my mother could have lived.  But this delightful woman seems to sense that, and we have grown very fond of each other.