“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.”

-Winnie the Pooh

So often I’m guilty of FORGETFULNESS.  Not forgetfulness in the sense of “having no recollection,” but in the sense of failing to fully recognize the myriad blessings that I’ve been given.  And so I took a few moments to remember one of the greatest blessings in my life…my Mom. Because it’s her Birthday!

During my blonde bowl-cut era, I remember simply walking to Meridian Elementary together and then walking home at the day’s conclusion.  I relished the times we spent talking about the day…about life…about everything and nothing.  And I also remember the day that I ran across the playground thinking some random kid was my friend Kris and getting 5 feet away before realizing it was some COMPLETE STRANGER.   It was that day we realized I had the vision of a Fruit Bat.  But don’t think for one second I somehow missed out on the first 7 years of life because of my blindness; if anything, my Mom’s joyful presence heightened my senses to the beauty all around us.

I remember playing with Z-bots and Ninja Turtles and random pieces of styrofoam and the creativity she brought to each day…I don’t think there was ever a truly “normal” day…she made all of them special.

Even though I could read by the time I was 18 months old, I remember feigning illiteracy until I was in Kindergarten.  If you’ve ever heard my Mom read a children’s book, then you’d understand; the voices and the expression she brings to otherwise predictable plots is exquisitely delicious.  Even the best of Broadway pales in comparison to the theatrical experience that I would get to witness on a nightly basis during Bedtime Stories with Mom.

I remember baseball…baseball was so beautiful.  Many people don’t “get baseball,” but she understood it, appreciated it, and was always in the stands to witness that particular gift…I didn’t appreciate that gift like I should have until it was gone.

I remember all my friends from broken homes…there was a reason they were always over at our house.  I could have grown up like them, but God gave me her instead.

And I remember the road trips, the music, every Vacation Bible School we’ve ever done…if you could just bottle up all those moments and continually imbibe from that rejuvenating elixir, then the litany of distractions and the existential angst of unfulfilled expectations and painful betrayals would simply melt into the background of a tapestry too brilliant to be obscured by trivial minutiae.  So maybe we should.

There are about 10,000 reasons every kid born since 1986 has instantly gravitated towards her. I think deep down, everyone who knows her probably wishes she was their Mom…but I’m the only one who gets to ever say that.

 I love you so, so much.  Happy Birthday😊