Happy Birthday, Mom.

“There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.” – Sophia Loren

“Happy Birthday Nana!” my son and I exclaimed at the conclusion of singing my mom Happy Birthday this morning. She is 74 years old today.

“Thank you,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m 74. I’m ooooold.”

“Do you feel old?” I asked her.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know what I should feel like,” she answered.

“I guess you just feel how you feel,” I responded. “And 74 is just a number.”

My mom is the youngest 74-year-old I have ever met.

She still works as a nurse, often late into the night. I can’t function after 10:30 p.m. Try talking to me and see how that turns out. My mom drives a stick shift, not because she has to but because she wants to and she drives that sucker fast, silently cursing those who can’t handle the road like she can. She left the city a long time ago and calls the curvy, rural roads of upstate New York her home. She taught my brother, sister and me how to drive and that must have been an absolute nightmare, but she did it.

My mom is a 74-year-old athlete.

She takes TABATA, Bootcamp and PiYo classes at the local YMCA. These are not your golden, senior exercise classes, which would be absolutely fine for her to take, but not my mom. My mom is jumping, squatting, burpeeing into her golden years, lifting heavy weights and making 20-year-olds feel like they’re out of shape. She’s the let’s-play-tennis, walk-two-miles, go-for-a-hike and then if we have time, check out the outdoor workout equipment at the local park. I spent a week with her in September and we went to three different parks in the same day. Before taking a TABATA class that night. I barely kept up.

My mom is a 74-year-old survivor.

She was born in Germany, spent some time in Australia and when she was 7 years old, became a permanent resident of the United States, via Whitestone, N.Y. She was the middle child, anchored by an older sister and a much younger brother and raised by two World War II survivors – who fought for Germany. She was an introvert and a wanderer. She learned to be fiercely independent, highly in tune with nature and animals and found little pieces of herself throughout her life. If I’m being honest, I think she is still trying to find all of the pieces of who she is, but we all know that self-awareness is a lifetime journey.

My mom is a 74-year-old adventurer.

My mom is willing to go on any adventure at any time. When she visits me, she takes my kids rock climbing. She loves to paddleboard, kayak and there have been times my sister and I share a phone call discussing if it’s a good idea that mom is kayaking in the Hudson River again. Alone.

My mom is a 74-year-old lover of the beach.

It feels like yesterday that she was sandwiched in between my two kiddos, in the back seat of my husband’s Tahoe in the heat of July, on our way to our family trip to Destin. We were so excited when she wanted to join us the year our daughter was a baby and she joined us every year after that, never complaining about reading books during the five-hour drive from our home to the beach, riding in the middle seat, passing snacks and sippy cups and stories, a wide-grin on her face as she posed for a smile. My mom has never been old a day in her life, she has danced through the dash, taking on challenges and goals with a silent fortitude and drive.

On Tuesday, she is going to start chemotherapy to treat the cancer that has invaded her body, and this challenge is going to be a tough one. But she is ready. She is facing it with the same fierce independence that she faces everything, not wanting to burden those around her and wanting to do it alone. The first treatment is six hours, she’s going to drive herself there and home. That medicine is going to hit her body, kill that cancer and in no time, she is going to be back to Bootcamp, TABATA and running all of the parks around her because my mom is stronger than the cancer cells that chose to live in her body.

My mom is a 74-year-old cancer slayer. Remember that, mom.

Happy Birthday.

January 25, 2025