It was my birthday—nothing special, just some random, odd number one.
The inevitable question ensued, ‘and what would you like for your birthday, Mum?
My answer was as usual, ‘I don’t need anything, love. Please don’t waste your money.
After all, at almost eighty what could I possibly need? I don’t like surprises so fervently I hoped there would not be a surprise party.
Yet my family did manage to surprise me with the very best gift I could imagine. Each family member, young and not so young, wrote me a letter telling me what I meant to them.
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