My mother turned 75 this year.
For her birthday, I reached out to 75 people she loved. Tell me about a moment when she touched your life, I asked them. It doesn’t have to be long. A sentence is great. I’m putting them all in a book for her.
Over the months, the moments came in. Some were a few words. Some were several paragraphs.
A few mentioned high-note events like donating bone marrow and giving birth.
But the rest took place in ordinary time.
When you give me your big, full hug. How you sat with me when I got motion sickness. Walking late at night together to get our 10,000 steps in. The way you call out, “Good morning, sweetheart!” to me.
These were the moments that remained with people. Gentle and brief gestures of tenderness.
And if ever I think a minute isn’t enough time to do something meaningful, I need look no further than this book.
It’s a tribute to my mother, sure. But more than that, it’s a tribute to the largeness of little human acts.