Suddenly, I had an idea.
“Mom,” I said, “I actually forgot your real present at home. Can we do gifts again tomorrow?”
Melissa laughed.
“You forgot her birthday present?”
I ignored her.
The following afternoon, everyone came back for leftover cake.
This time, I placed a large wrapped box in front of Mom.
Melissa leaned back with an amused expression.
Mom opened it.
Inside was a scrapbook I had made using copies of the things she had saved from our childhood.
Old photographs.
Little handwritten notes.
Mother’s Day cards.
Drawings.
