The story behind this song
Her kids stopped counting candles and started counting springs — seventy of them. First on the street with daffodils every March, sun hat on the gatepost, gloves worn through and kept anyway. The lullabies she half made up that everyone still knows by heart. The lectures they rolled their eyes at, which turned out to be right. The back door that never locked, because someone might need to come home.
She measured out their childhoods in jam jars on the shelf and kept every macaroni necklace like wealth. Now the grandkids trample the same flower beds, and she laughs — that's what a garden's for. For the mom in full bloom at seventy, with everything she planted gathered home around her.
Lyrics
We're counting springs instead
Sun hat on the gatepost, gloves worn through and dear
You sang us lullabies you half made up — we know them all by heart
And the lectures that we rolled our eyes at — turns out you were right
And look at everything that grew
Every one of us your garden, every bloom
The back door never locked because someone might come home
And we always, always did — we came home to you
Happy birthday, Mama
Here's to seventy springs — and more
Kept every macaroni necklace like it was wealth
Now your grandkids run the same yard, trampling the beds
And you laugh — you say that's what a garden's for
And look at everything that grew
Every one of us your garden, every bloom
The back door never locked because someone might come home
And we always, always did — we came home to you
Happy birthday, Mama
Here's to seventy springs — and more
They just know you show up every March
So do we, Mama — so do we
And the whole yard's gathered here in bloom for you
The back door's standing open, the kettle's nearly on
And everything you planted came home true
Happy birthday, Mama
Here's to seventy springs — and more
Spring's not going anywhere — and neither are we
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