Jc Bartel
I'll never forget the yearly interaction with Shirley where she would remind me of my birthdate -- and yours, too, I'm sure! Growing up, she would spank us for each year of our age. We would run away or hide but she would always find us to give us our birthday spanking. She would sing Happy Birthday in her special way: "Mah-mah Moonay to you!" And she would ask: "You 2-6 or 2-7?" And when I would tell her my actual age, whether it was 28 or 52, you know what she would say... "YOU OLD!""
She carried this tradition of her birthday interaction to her nieces and nephews, too. Whenever she saw my sons, she would ask: "How old? You 18 or 19?" When my son Dominic turned 18, he said he wanted to see Auntie Shirley so that he could finally answer her question correctly!
She made sure I knew her birthday was coming up, too. I was invited to her party months in advance. And I knew she wanted cake, balloons, and presents.
It's hard to believe we won't be seeing Shirley anymore during our family visits. I'll miss her toothless smile and her talk about the casino, buying a house, or why I have 3 boys but no " irl " and how much she wanted a baby irl.
She had a simple outlook on life and she was a child at heart all 66 years of her life. Many times it wasn't easy interpreting what she was saying, but she helped me to practice patience and to stop for a few minutes to see things as she did and communicate with her on her level.
So, thank you, Shirley, for teaching me to have patience, for your love and attention to my birthday, and all our birthdays! We will all remember you when we greet each other on our birthdays with "Mah-mah Moonay!" Rest in peace!
