My birthday is the same day as one of the women of our church and both we feel fortunate if we get through the service without someone mentioning it to the congregation. We did this year. She in quiet wished me a happy birthday and I did the same to her. We were talking afterward the service and she said that she saw me fanning myself because I was hot and she said that she was sitting in her pew and was cold. That week, my daughter and I while shopping, saw this thickly woven sweater in black. The price was right, the size looked right, and the color was black so she could wear it with whatever she chose.
Placing it in a gift bag with a card that read, "Have a warm and happy birthday, your secret friends" and placed it in the vestibule where she could find it.
Yesterday, she came over to talk to someone behind me before church. She was wearing the sweater and I said, "That's a nice looking sweater. I'll bet it's warm." I know that it didn't register until later. The sweater did look smart on her. It fit her well and did indeed look warm. She asked my daughter and I if we had anything to do with her sweater. I couldn't lie and said partially. Later at the change of services to go to Sunday school, she brought a "Thank you note addressed to "My secret friends."
Yesterday was the tenth anniversary of my wife death and the seventh anniversary of my mother's passing. It is hard to believe that much time has passed.

In the recesses of my mind, your memories reside.
Sometimes the thoughts are hard to find. Time has locked them inside.
The years have dulled those memories. Sometimes, tears fill my eyes.
Sights or sounds are often the keys, to make memories arise.
Cancer claimed her, took her away, so many years ago.
I miss her to this very day. It's hard to let her go.
She comes to visit at odd times, plucking strings of my heart.
Sometimes I share her in my rhymes when those memories start.
At those times, memories escape and I will open up.
I push aside memories drape and drink deep from its cup.

You meant so much to me, memories are so precious.
Frustrated, I can't be free from this loving truss.
Memories bind me still. They at times bind me fast.
What is that strong appeal that some memories last?
Tender thoughts stir the mind. The years of love survive.
It's the way love's defined; keeps memories alive.
Thoughts of your touch remain, filling my heart and soul.
My longing is in vain, never again to be mad whole.

Two short ones for the price of one today.