Memere's Birthday

Sam and I did go berrying on the twelfth. We picked over 20 pounds of berries. Sam picked 5 pounds on her own. I couldn't get her out of the patch. About an hour in I asked her if she wanted to stop and get some ice cream. No, she wanted to fill her basket. SHe kept picking. I say, hey, I can't feel my knees anymore, can we stop? "Nope, your basket is full Mommy but mine isn't. Can we work together as a team and fill both baskets?" Well, okay. Sheesh! Even ice cream doesn't stop her from just one more strawberry! I tease her that Me'mere would be so proud, a chip off the old strawberry. Sam starts any questions about me'mere with "how many teeth did she have when she died?" Sam can't fathom someone not going to the dentist every six months, or outliving your teeth. Life has changed. So I tell her stories that Me'mere told me about her life in 1900 onwards. Life without refrigerators, cars, and of course, dentists. We work our way down the row as I share Me'mere stories, and I think Me'mere would be very happy to be remembered that way.