This past weekend, we celebrated my mom’s 69th birthday — and what a gift it was. Every year that I get to celebrate another trip around the sun with her feels like such a blessing. Ever since her stroke, our time together feels even more sacred. So when she mentioned wanting to go to church for her birthday, I made sure that’s exactly what we did.
We started the day slow and intentional. Church was peaceful, grounding, and felt like the perfect way to start her special day. Afterward, we met up with my sister for lunch at Brio, one of our favorite Italian spots. We got to the area a little early, so we took our time walking around the mall. It was sweet and simple — window shopping, people-watching, and even treating ourselves to cookies.
By the time we made it to the restaurant, mom was starting to tire a bit, but her eyes lit up when our server arrived. He was one of those rare people who makes you feel like an old friend — warm, funny, and incredibly attentive. He brought a lightness to our lunch that made the moment feel even more special. We laughed a lot. It reminded me how joy often finds its way in through the smallest cracks — a shared smile, a perfectly-timed joke, a good plate of pasta.
Of course, outings like this can be a lot for my mom now. Since her stroke, she gets overstimulated easily — loud noises, crowds, or even just being upright in her wheelchair for too long can take a toll. By the time we finished lunch, she was exhausted, and I could tell she was ready to head home. But the joy in her eyes said it all — we had a great time. We made another beautiful memory.
What These Moments Teach Me
Days like this remind me to slow down and savor. To honor the pace that life — and caregiving — often demands. As a caregiver, it’s easy to get caught up in logistics and responsibilities. But birthdays like my mom’s are a reminder that presence is the greatest gift we can offer someone we love.
I’m learning to be more present. To notice the little things — the smile after a bite of tiramisu, the way sunlight hits her cheek in the car, the soft squeeze of her hand in mine. These are the memories I want to collect like treasures.
Because birthdays aren’t just about the celebration — they’re about reflection, gratitude, and love. And this year, like every year, I am so deeply thankful to still have my mom here. Laughing, loving, and reminding me every day what resilience looks like.
If you’re a caregiver reading this…
Remember to celebrate the little wins. The shared meals, the quiet walks, the smiles after long days. Those are the moments that build a life. You are doing sacred work, and you deserve to feel the joy that comes with it.
Have you had a moment like this lately with someone you care for? I’d love to hear about it. Let’s hold space for each other and all the beauty we witness — even on the hard days.
