As I travel the globe, there is one thought I have most every place I go:   “My mother would have loved this.”  I felt it palpably last Saturday night as I sat in Lisbon and listened to the old men of the neighborhood sing Fado music.  I felt it on the first leg of our journey in the Galapagos, and it was a constant refrain to my children all through Asia.  It was a relief to finally have her visit with us in Istanbul.  I was just able to appreciate how much she loved it, instead of feeling what might have been.My mother can make friends with anyone.  There has never been a plane trip where she has not gotten someone’s number and made a promise to get in touch some day soon.  And there has never been a museum she hasn’t yearned to go into or a vista she has passed without appreciating.  So each time we speak to a stranger or I try to corral the family into a museum I think of her.  Today is her 75th birthday.  As Franny will attest, Mark and I are not so good at birthdays.  But this year, we celebrate, you — Mom, Gail Busbie — who for a brief time we had as our traveling companion around the world.  Happy birthday.  This journey is a testament to you and your innate sense of curiosity.  Thank you for instilling it in me.  — JenBe forewarned:  If you fly your mother to Istanbul and tell her how much you truly loved spending a week with her, you might elicit this kind of reaction.  Love is a messy business.