This morning as I drove to meet friends for a birthday breakfast I found myself thinking about my mom. On birthdays we should remember and celebrate the mother who carried us, then brought us into the world at great pains to herself.
And we should be thankful.
I thought about the sacrifices mom made, the love she gave, and the
lessons she taught. Some of those lessons I didn’t fully appreciate until many
birthdays had passed.
I remembered how strange it was the last couple years that she didn’t even
know when my birthday was! And how I felt those last months when it was my turn
to care for her right up until the moment she took her last breath and met her
Savior face to face.
I would do it all over again.
Today I miss her.
And I thank God for her.
I wish I could tell her.
But somehow I think she knows.
