I was going through and clearing out a bunch of crap from my office area the other day and came across a birthday card my grandmother sent to my son Demetri a dozen or so years ago. She was in her early nineties then. He was seven.
Here’s a picture of the front of the card:
She had, no doubt, walked down to the pharmacy at Bradley Meadows to buy it. She might have grabbed a bottle of wine from the liquor store while she was out. She always remembered our birthdays.
Here’s the inside of the card:
In case you can’t read her I’m-Old-and-English-is My-Second-Language-Anyway handwriting, she wrote,
Gd Mère wish you very happy day for your Birthday —
Good kisses —