Remember me as loving you.

Happy Mother's Day! 

I am a lover of all celebrations. My pals laugh at my visions of magical setups for any reason to celebrate. Except - I am actually no fan of Mother's Day. 

I think I am going on my sixth mother's day because a mom starts to celebrate when those sweet baby kicks are there. My first son was actually due on Mother's Day in 2013. I hoped he would come, as I was Shallow Hal swollen and uncomfortable, but mostly, because I thought a baby in my arms on my first mother's day would be a pretty sweet gift. Cole, as always, had his own plan in mind; I got my gift two days after. 

Each year thereafter the kiddies have found a way to thwart my plans for my "special" day. Although my hubby tries to make the day sweet, the boys' naps, demands, or preferences seem to form the plan. This year, I decided there was no plan - in fact, I forgot to even close out my flower appointment schedule. So - I'm booked up with appointments anyway and will enjoy my flowers quietly while dad probably does the grandma visits.

But yesterday, something magical happened. Most of you know, I work in my flower workshop in the middle of the night. Around 3 a.m., I was working on one of my last proofs with my friend (a stay-at-home mom who doesn't mind helping me out in the middle of the night so she can enjoy her children during the day), and I couldn't find the special stem wrap for the last bouquet I was working on.

When flowers come to me, I take pictures and baggie up all special items. When some items are extra super special, I often stash them in my special angel drawer so that I can check on them if someone asks. Marissa's stems were wrapped with her angel mom's wedding dress, garter, and a rose gold memory charm with childhood picture of the bride and her mom. Although I knew I wouldn't sleep until I found it, I had an eerie sense of calmness looking for it. My friend was worried when she left me to go home, but by 5 a.m., Marissa's special items were in my hands; turns out, I forgot they would be in my special drawer. 

Marissa's mom has actually taught me two lessons. Last night - trust myself and stay calm. I knew for certain she would pop up. But before my hunt, she also taught me about my role in motherhood. A few months back, I offered free angel appearance portrait services to a handful of brides who lost a parent. I asked a graphic artist to blend the angel back into the wedding family portrait with the missing link. Marissa's was hard to do because the quality of her mom's picture was hard to work with. I asked her if she had anything better, and she said she didn't really have many pictures of her mom because her mom was always taking the pictures, so her children now treasure any of the few they have of her. Lesson 2: get in the picture for them.

Those angel appearance portraits are absolute magic, especially for a bride who is facing mother's day - or her wedding - without her mom. One of the most special stories I remember working on was for Angela, who lost her mom the year of her wedding in a car crash, on the same road I frequent. Many parts of her wedding incorporated her mom. Her rings were her moms, the location they took pictures was her mom and dad's spot - so many special details that I got to display. One of the most important pieces was that she hung her mom's ashes from her bouquet, and LEFT THEM WITH ME. For the year of working on the flowers, I kept mom right on my workbench in plain sight, so I knew exactly where she was at all times. Her angel appearance portraits are out of this world.