Instead of breakfast in bed, it was an allergy pill with a sip of water before rushing to the hospital at daybreak to assist with a lung transplant.
Instead of extravagant flowers, it was red carnations and handfuls of dandelions.
Instead of a elegant Mother's Day tea, it was sodas then story time at the library.
Instead of gifts of shiny new jewelry, it was twinkling candle holders made of baby food jars.
Instead of boxes of sweets, it was sticky little boys kisses.
Instead of a fancy night on the town, it was barbecue and games in the backyard.
Instead of being typical, it was perfect.