The daughter of an old Hollywood family had a beautiful tradition for her birthday. She would call her mother to thank her for being her mother. What a wonderful idea!
I started a similar tradition. I sent my mother flowers or a plant that evokes childhood or special memories. Today, it was a basket of gardenias.
When I grew up, there was a gardenia bush outside my bedroom window. During the spring, I would open the windows, and the fragrance was intoxicating. It also helped cut the smell of a teenage boy’s room whose turtle dish needed attention.
As I submitted the order, memories flooded my mind. Even now, the scent of gardenias feels comforting and safe, like being home. I am grateful and blessed to have had a wonderful mother. I didn’t talk to her often enough, but she was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I thanked her for those hours of hard labor, for changing my diapers, for teaching me how to walk and how to wipe my butt, for supporting me during the tough times, for being there to share the good times, and, most of all, for her love.
February 21st is not just my birthday. It’s My Mother’s Day. Although she is gone, I still take time to think about the gardenias and remember the warmth of my mother’s hugs.
