Happy Birthday, Georgia

Today is Marty's mom's birthday (she passed away when he was 12).  Every year I bake a nice cake and we talk about her.  The first year we were married I wrote out a bunch of questions to ask Marty about her, so that's what the jar of red papers is about.  Things like, "What nick-names did your mom have for you," or "what made your mom laugh?"

Nothing like some therapeutic blogginess, right?

Dear Georgia,

Even though I have never been able to shake your hand, or give you a hug, or put your grand baby into your arms, I know you are aware of me, my family, and especially your son.  I know you are too busy in Heaven to just hang out and watch us, but I do believe your presence has been felt at the biggest moments of our marriage (most recently at Gabe's blessing).  And I appreciate that.

I love your son.  I adore him.  In six years of marriage, he has never once yelled at me.  He is kind, gentle, and the most devoted father any kids could ask for.  He honors his priesthood and takes his role as the leader of our household seriously.  He is smart, optimistic, obedient, humble, and so darn much fun.  He is also the wisest thirty-year-old I've ever known.  Even waking up before 5:00 in the morning to study his lesson for seminary, he still wakes up early enough to get his "personal study" in as well.  I believe I have you to thank for his passion of the scriptures, as I know you instilled that in him at an early age.  In fact, I believe I have you to thank for most of the qualities that make him Marty.  Knowing you would only have a short time as a mother, I know you put every ounce of energy you had into that holy calling, and you inspire me as a mother.  I know I can never be Georgia, but I hope someday I can come close.  We love you so much,

Emily

P.S.  Your grandkids often pray that you will be resurrected soon. :)  I thought you'd like that.