Two years ago on Mother’s Day I had plans to see a musical with a friend of mine, but they called that morning violently ill. In a mad dash to find another plus-one, I asked my mom to go, thinking she’d say no because she isn’t exactly spontaneous. But she said yes, so then I made reservations at the only place I could find that took reservations online–Ruth’s Chris (Fancy Pants) Steakhouse. Based on Mom’s reaction when we pulled into the parking lot, it completely made her day. (Considering I’d actually forgotten it was Mother’s Day until that morning, this was a huge win.) Anyway, last year we repeated our adventure–saw a play, went back to Ruth’s Chris. (You can read about here.) Again, Mom was thrilled.

And thus a tradition was born.

That’s right, today for Mother’s Day, we did it all over again. First, Mom and I saw a play in Fayetteville at Theater Squared, The Hound of the Baskervilles. A humorous take on the classic Sherlock Holmes story, it’s the same show I saw last week and stars the three talented actors who taught the comedy workshop I attended a few days ago. Y’all, the production was just as hilarious today as last week, even more so. You know how it is the second time around–you notice things you didn’t notice before, subtle little things. At least that’s been my experience with theater productions and boyfriends. (That last part was a joke.) Today there was a line that completely escaped me the first viewing, a reference to a miniature cow, which one of the characters called “a bonsai bovine.” A bonsai bovine–how clever! I’m still tickled.

After the show, Mom and I briefly went to a bookstore, but neither of us saw anything we couldn’t live without. Still, it was fun to look. Then we went to Starbucks because Mom hardly ever goes to Starbucks and it’s still a treat for her to get a Chai Tea. (It’s the little things.) As for me, I got a White Chocolate Mocha and a chocolate-chip cookie because, well, fuck Autoimmune Paleo. (At least for today.)

No regrets.

Leaving Starbucks, Mom and I went back to Ruth’s Chris for dinner. Seriously, the name is weird, but it’s a pretty classy joint. The waiters all smile at you (imagine that), there’s a candle on every table, and today all the mothers got a rose. Oh, and did I mention the food is fabulous? Tonight Mom and I both got steak and split our sides, creamed spinach and southwest mac and cheese. (Can you say fattening?) And then–and then–we both had chocolate cake. (Can you say bitch, it was delicious?)

It’s weird what all can happen in twelve months. This time last year, mom was just about to be diagnosed with breast cancer. Now she’s undergone chemotherapy, had a double mastectomy, and completed radiation. Last week she got a new wig, and today she wore her foobs (fake boobs) for the first time. One is slightly bigger than the other, which Mom said was true to life. (We talk about EVERYTHING in this family.) At dinner tonight I asked Mom how it felt having come through the whole ordeal. Glancing at a bracelet around her wrist that says, “Hope,” she said, “I’m glad it’s over.” This really is good reminder–something worthy of celebrating–that just as challenges can come into our lives, they can also leave.

Later I told Mom, “The next time you reincarnate, I’d ask for an easier life. You’ve had more than your fair share of trials and tribulations this go round.” Seriously, the woman has. I won’t go into details, but she’s had it rough. And yet here’s what I notice about my mother, that not only is she able to weather the storms of life, but that she’s able to do so with poise. Not that she doesn’t have bad days, but she doesn’t whine about them. At least from my point of view, she’s not bitter. And whereas I consider my mother’s unconditional love her greatest gift to me, perhaps this is her second greatest gift–her example of grace under fire. Perhaps this too is unconditional love–to refuse to be defined by your bruises, to never give up on life or anyone in it (including yourself), to hope.