Generations

It's birthday time. Leah and I step into the kitchen.  She slips off her sandals and climbs onto the chair. From her additional three feet of height, she easily reaches her spoon into the bowl of chocolate mousse and smoothes it on top of the chocolate cake.  We finish off the sides with halved walnuts as we spin the plate around.  Together, we smile as we lick our chocolate covered fingers and clean our butterknives in our mouths.

After singing to grandma in both Spanish and English, we work together to pass out plates to all of the guests.  Last to eat, we each choose a sliver of ice cream cake and pull out chairs at a table.  As her mother glances at Leah and smiles approvingly, I call out a memory of another March day, could it really be twenty years ago?  Leah's mom is frosting birthday cake in the kitchen with me.  We're laughing and cleaning our spoons.

Like mother - like daughter...and I'm the blessed one to share the memory of both.