I Remember Mama: May

May has always been and probably always will be my favorite month of the year.

Here in the Northeast, May always means the temperatures are finally in the 70's and all the trees and flowers are budding so that when you look out the window you are delighted by a beautiful array of pastel colors everywhere you look.

For my family, growing up, May always meant the start of BBQ season and outdoor celebrations: Memorial Day, Mother's Day, First Communions, dance recitals... Not to mention my birthday!

When I think about May I am comforted by thirty years' worth of happy memories. And twenty-nine years worth of those memories include my mom.

My mom always made a point to go above and beyond when it came to our birthdays. It wasn't that she did anything elaborate or expensive, it was just the little things that made my sisters and me feel extra special on our big day.

I remember waking up every year on my birthday to the sound of her scotch taping streamers and balloons onto my door. 

I remember being so excited to pick out my birthday dinner - the same thing every year: Chicken Cutlets (with honey to dip), Rice and Green Beans. 

I remember the hours we spent together, planning and preparing an elaborate treat for me to share with my class. One year it was chocolate covered marshmallow treats. Another year it was pretzel rods dipped in caramel, peanuts and chocolate. 

I remember the excitement of planning my themed birthday party. My favorite was a Garden theme. Lemonade was served out of a watering can and a chocolate pudding dirt cake was served in a flower pot with plastic daisies on top. 

I remember the anticipation I felt before opening my gift from my mom. It wasn't the size or expense of the gift that made it special, rather, the thought that my mom put into it. She always knew that particular something that I was really hoping to receive without me even having to tell her! 

All these thoughtful, creative gestures on my mom's part, bundled together year after year have produced one grown-up girl who still absolutely loves her birthday. 

And God in his goodness is truly a personal, caring and detail-oriented God.

Two years ago, the last birthday I was blest to celebrate before my mom's passing, God gave me the very best birthday gift in the world.

My beautiful baby boy.

On the evening of my twenty-ninth birthday, after a very quick, easy and I can honestly say painless labor (my other birthday gift :), my second son was born. My mom was there the moment he arrived. She knew how much I had hoped he would be born on my birthday. She was there was we discovered he was a boy. She knew that meant he would be named after her beloved father.

In the midst of all the craziness of giving birth, I distinctly remember looking up at my mom, brand new baby boy in my arms, and making eye contact with her. Joy-filled eyes met joy-filled eyes: no words were necessary.

I will never forget that moment. Truly a gift.

I cannot think of a better way to celebrate my final birthday with the beautiful woman who gave birth to me on the same day, twenty-nine years prior.

As I approach my second birthday without my mom, my feelings are bittersweet. While nothing will take away the sorrow I feel over not getting to hear her wish me a Happy Birthday, I find so much joy in the fact that, for the rest of my life, I get to share my birthday festivities with my sweet little Birthday Buddy.

Before taking my mom, He gave me that gift. God truly is so good.

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For everything there is a season. 

A time for every activity under heaven. 

A time to be born and a time to die. 

A time to plant and a time to harvest. 

A time to kill and a time to heal. 

A time to tear down and a time to build up. 

A time to cry and a time to laugh. 

A time to grieve and a time to dance. 

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. 

A time to embrace and a time to turn away. 

A time to search and a time to quit searching. 

A time to keep and a time to throw away. 

A time to tear and a time to mend. 

A time to be quiet and a time to speak. 

A time to love and a time to hate. 

A time for war and a time for peace. 

-Ecclesiastes 3:1 - 8

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In October 2013, after a two year battle with breast cancer, my mom passed away at the age of 55. More about her here. All the flowers pictured are from her house.