Since beginning my writing journey, I’ve wanted to write about two important people in my life – my parents. Today is my mom’s birthday, so what better time to tell you about this special woman. Mom, thank you for being you – this post is for you! Last evening my family had my parents over for a birthday dinner for Mom. We served homemade lasagna, breadsticks, and spinach salad followed by ice cream with warm peanut butter cookies for dessert. Great conversation ensued, games were played, and laughter was common throughout the night. The kids had Grandma and Grandpa sit through five different Coyote Peterson (wildlife educator) episodes, which spurred conversation about different insects, and lots of cringing as we watched Mr. Peterson purposely get stung – one insect after another. The bullet ant sting (the most potent sting in the insect kingdom) was the final episode we watched, and let’s just say we hope we never experience that sting. Our night encompassed much of what makes Mom so special – laughter, fun, homemade food, outdoor adventures, learning, and a love of family. Growing up, I had a wonderful childhood, and Mom was very involved. She coached my soccer team for years, joined my school’s PTA, volunteered to chaperone my field trips, lead my Girl Scout troops, volunteered as an artist-in-residence (through the Minneapolis Institute of Arts) where she would teach art lessons to classes in my school – my favorite part of elementary school, and she volunteered during many of our youth church activities. I remember being excited to have Mom with me – wherever I was. All of these activities were very special, but one of the most meaningful and memorable acts was her choice to stay home with us when we were little. Mom went to college at the University of Minnesota and got a nursing job right out of college. She took an extended leave once I was born so that she could stay home and raise me, and later, my two younger brothers. Once my brothers and I were in school, Mom chose to go back to nursing, but only part-time. My parents worked it out so either my mother or father was home for us at all times. I remember home-cooked meals in the evenings (Mom’s wild rice soup was my favorite), and warm after-school snacks – oatmeal muffins were the best. Mom made all of our Halloween costumes, often dressing up along with us. One of my favorite memories is Mom playing the piano at Christmas while we sang songs by her side. What Child Is This has always been her favorite Christmas song. Our summers were filled with swimming at the many beaches on White Bear Lake, trips to the library, weekends at the family cabin, and the occasional camping trip. As I grew, Mom was not just my mom anymore, she transitioned into a friend. We picked up the habit of taking one or two long, brisk walks every day. To this day, we still take walks together when we visit each other. These walks are, and always have been, filled with deep conversation, catching up on the day’s events, and our way of staying healthy – physically and mentally. While I was in high school, we started enjoying girl’s weekends when the boys were away hunting or fishing. Whether we were hiking the North Shore of Lake Superior, visiting my grandparents in Texas, gazing over the Fourviere district in Lyon, France, exploring the canyons in New Mexico, snowshoeing in seven feet of snow in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, or horseback riding in the Absaroka mountains in Montana, special memories were made and our relationship grew stronger. Some weekends we chose to stay home where shopping, dinner out, a game of Canasta, and popcorn and a movie on the couch were just what we needed. “Now and Then” was always our go-to movie. I can’t wait until my own daughter is a little older so my mom and I can introduce her to this classic film. Marrying my high-school sweetheart was best described as bittersweet. I was more than excited to marry my love, but I was sad and a little nervous to move out of my parent’s house for good. A sure sign of a wonderful childhood, right? Both of my parents walked me down the aisle, and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The emotions I felt when I saw my future-husband waiting for me at the end of the aisle, and the love and support I felt from my parents as they linked their arms with mine, was overwhelming. I was celebrating and mourning the changes that were taking place – all at once. Life did change, but the relationship with my mother continued to grow and get stronger. My mother now works alongside of me as I run a small gardening business. Throughout the growing months, we spend hours each week working in gardens, talking, and creating together. On the days that we don’t see each other, we talk on the phone – sometimes twice per day. When we are not working, my family still spends many summer weekends with my parents at the family cabin where games, fishing, swimming, long walks in the woods, and roasting marshmallows fill our time. Four years ago, my parents bought the family farm, which changed all of our lives. After retirement, my mother became engrossed in researching her family history. During this time, she discovered that one of the homesteads still existed. Long story, short (you can read the full story here) – my parents ended up moving onto the farm, starting a tree farm, and are still unearthing family secrets as they explore their new home. This has been something my mom has loved and cherished. Consequently, this is what ultimately guided me back to writing – a long time passion of mine. I needed to tell their story. I needed to tell my family’s story. My mom