My birthday is on August 20th. For some reason, it wasn't until about 5 years ago that I started acknowledging and actually celebrating my birthday. It was the cliche excuse with awkwardness of people making a big deal out if it mixed with heavy nostalgia and a side of guilt. I know, I know and I don't know either. So. Being that we are a week out from my 28th, I wanted to dedicate this week to my friends and family who have gone above and beyond to put up with me and my lame requests and make some of my more recent birthdays so uniquely Beth and so damn perfect. This is me totally stepping out of my box here. Going from showing up at work one day on your birthday and not breathing a word that it's such to dedicating an entire week to my birthday? Yea, consider yourself stepped out of, Box. I really want to push this blog to be more than just pictures of my food and my feet and this seems the perfect way to start. Plus, that is an odd combination to begin with, but now that I say it out loud, it's even more strange.
N E WAY.
Less food and feet talk, more birthday talk. Check.
SO! Who better to kick this week off than my Mary? Growing up, birthday mornings were always my favorite. Our family would do same as most families; breakfast in bed, pancakes in the shape of whatever year we were turning, freshly picked flower etc. My sister and I lived together for several years throughout college & beyond so we most certainly carried this tradition on. We'd rush out before the other person was awake, nab their favorite bagel from down the road, stop for coffee + trash magazines. Flowers, treats...you name it. Throughout the years, things change and people change. New traditions are started and old ones seem to slip away. This year particular I remember feeling extra down and out at not only being away from my parents, but especially my sister. So what did Mary do? She brought me coffee, bagels and sweet gifts before work. Mary has such an eye for details and always finds the perfect ways to show you how much you are loved, and how much she cares.
I seem to have only snapped a few photos of that morning, but it really doesn't matter. While the few pictures I did take don't say enough, they keep the memory so alive and strong which is really the most important, now isn't it?