80 Things I Love About My Mom (on her 80th Birthday)
...part of making "(& LIFE)" more human ;-)
I love that before you were “Mom” or “Grandma,” you were simply Fran. A woman with a generous heart and a quiet determination.
I love that your life has never been about drawing attention to yourself. It has always been about making life better for the people around you.
I love that, even though you may be small in stature, your strength has never needed to be loud or large to be unmistakable.
I love that you somehow make everyone feel like they belong.
I love that your faith has never been something you performed. It has simply been part of who you are.
I love your curiosity. You have never stopped learning.
I love your practicality. You rarely complicate what wisdom makes simple.
I love your creativity. You see possibilities where others see limitations.
I love your wit. It sneaks up on people and leaves them laughing.
I love that one look from you has always managed to say, “You might be in trouble,” and at exactly the same time, “You are loved.”
I love the story you and Dad have written together over 60 years.
I love the way you still smile when you look at Dad.
I love that your love has always lived in both grand celebrations and quiet moments no one else notices.
I love that you’ve shown all of us what commitment looks like over decades, not days.
I love that you’ve built a home where love has always been easier to find than perfection.
I love that when the two of you are together, there is still a sense that you’re teammates.
I love that you’ve celebrated each other’s victories and carried each other’s burdens.
I love that you’ve shown us true love isn’t built on one big moment. It’s built on thousands of ordinary ones.
I love that when you eat an incredible meal somewhere, your first response is usually, “I could do that.”
I love that you’re right - you could do that.
I love that you go home, figure it out, and somehow make it even better.
I love that our favorite restaurant has usually been your kitchen.
I love that every holiday together somehow tastes like home because of you.
I love that your recipes have become their own family history.
I love that every meal you’ve made has carried far more than food. It has carried love.
I love that Eric and I grew up knowing what hard work looked like because we watched you.
I love that excuses never seemed to have much room in our house.
I love that learning wasn’t something you finished. It was simply part of life.
I love that you taught us how to win with humility.
I love that you taught us how to lose with dignity.
I love that you taught us that showing up matters.
I love that you believed in us before we always believed in ourselves.
I love that your expectations always came wrapped in encouragement.
I love that laughter has always been one of your favorite teaching tools.
I love that sarcasm somehow became one of our family’s unofficial languages.
I love that you have loved Rebecca and Sandee into our family.
I love that family has always meant making room for one more chair.
I love that you’ve made every gathering feel like people were exactly where they belonged.
I love that you’ve never stopped being Mom, even after we became adults.
I love that you’ve shown us that family is something you keep choosing.
I have loved watching you become Grandma.
I love that Lauren, Elliott, Max, and Jack each know a slightly different version of you, yet each one knows the same unconditional love.
I love that your hugs have never had an expiration date.
I love that music has become part of your inheritance.
I love that your voice has become part of our family’s soundtrack.
I love that your grandchildren hear songs that first lived inside your heart.
I love that your joy has always been contagious.
I love that you’ve proven love multiplies instead of divides.
I love that every generation after you has become stronger because of you.
I love that your legacy already has names and faces.
I love your servant’s heart.
I love that helping people has never required an audience.
I love that every church you’ve attended eventually became family.
I love that you’ve built friendships that have lasted because you’ve invested in people.
I love that you’ve quietly shown what faithfulness looks like.
I love that coffee with you is never just about coffee.
I love that conversations around your table have changed lives more than you’ll ever know.
I love that you’ve always known how to make people feel seen.
I love that kindness has always come naturally to you.
I love that generosity has never seemed like work.
I love that your faith has carried you through both celebrations and storms.
I love that when life became unimaginably difficult, your first instinct was still to trust God.
I love your courage during your acoustic neuroma surgery.
I love that even while facing hearing loss and learning to balance again, you never let fear become your identity.
I love that your recovery became another testimony instead of another tragedy.
I love that one of your first acts after surgery was singing “Good Father.”
I love that, even then, your heart instinctively turned outside of yourself and toward something bigger.
I love that your quiet faith became louder than your circumstances.
I love that you’ve taught us strength and tenderness belong together.
I love that you’ve shown us resilience without bitterness.
I love that you’ve taught us success means little if it isn’t shared.
I love that you’ve shown us love is mostly found in ordinary days.
I love that you’ve made countless sacrifices we’ll never fully know.
I love that your fingerprints are all over who Eric and I have become.
I love that pieces of you live inside each of your grandchildren.
I love that every generation of our family carries something beautiful that started with you.
I love that you’ve never stopped growing.
I love that 80 years has only made you wiser, kinder, and more gracious.
I love that your greatest accomplishments aren’t things you’ve done. They’re people you’ve loved.
Most of all, I love that when I think about what I hope our family looks like for generations to come, I don’t have to imagine it. I simply think of you. You have loved Dad with your whole heart. You have raised Eric and me with strength and grace. You have welcomed Rebecca and Sandee with no reservations. You poured yourself into Lauren, Elliott, Max, and Jack. You have served friends, churches, neighbors, and strangers. You have trusted God through joy and suffering. You have filled our lives with music, laughter, unforgettable meals, and unwavering love. If 80 years measures a life, yours is measured best by the people who are better because YOU were HERE. I am one of them.
Happy 80th Birthday, Mom. I love you more than words will ever be able to say.
-Nathan


