I had never been very close with my own mother growing up. When I lost her to cancer at the tender age of 8, I had always wished that we had more time. Since the day I saw the double lines on my pregnancy strip appear, I imagined taking my child on special dates – just the two of us. Then I found out my little nugget was a girl. I cried. I could feel my mom with us right there.
I would honor her and do what she wasn’t able to. To whisk my little girl away from school in the afternoon and take her out for a special surprise treat to the fancy baker’s downtown. We’d sip herbal teas and clink our teacups after the many practice sessions I received in the playroom. Walking through the high tea room hand-in-hand, I gulped the lump in my throat and smiled. I knew my mother was sharing this moment with us.