My mom recently told me I should write about my apron.

I loved that she saw something in it worth putting into words.

After my sweet friend Mary Bernthal passed away, my mom took some of Mary’s beautiful scarves and transformed them into the sweetest, lightweight aprons.

She made three.

One for herself.
One for me.
And one for our girl, Aleah.

Three generations, each with a little piece of Mary wrapped around us.

There is something incredibly special about taking something that belonged to someone you loved and giving it another life. Instead of Mary’s scarves being tucked away somewhere, they get worn. They get used. They continue to be part of ordinary life.

And I swear… magical things happen when I put on that apron.

Not because I particularly love to cook. 😜

But I do love to serve people.

Tonight, I headed home to cook while Johnny and Aleah are at our new-to-us investment property painting. Different kinds of work, but all of it feels like love in motion—caring for our home, investing in our future, and doing what needs to be done together.

I love making people feel welcome. Setting a pretty table. Feeding people. Creating a beautiful space. Celebrating people. Finding little ways to make someone feel seen and cared for.

And sometimes serving people has nothing to do with food or a pretty table. Sometimes it’s simply remembering to stay connected.

I messaged Bernie’s son Steve today to check in, and he said Bernie (Mary’s husband) is doing pretty good. I know she’s watching over him from heaven!🤍 We’re planning a visit soon. When Bernie moved to the KC area, I promised we’d make the trip to see him once a quarter, and that’s a promise I plan to keep.

Maybe that’s what serving really is—showing up for the people you love, however that looks in each season.

Serving others has always been one of the ways I show love.

And somehow, tying on that apron makes all of that feel a little more meaningful.

Mary wore the scarf.

My mom’s hands transformed it.

And now I get to wear it while doing something that feels very much like me—loving people through serving them.

There’s something pretty special about that.

So maybe Mom was onto something when she thought this little apron deserved some words. 🤍

The Aprons

They started as scarves,
soft and light,
once worn by Mary,
a friend we loved so much.

Then they found their way
into my mom’s hands.

She cut.
She stitched.
She imagined something new
for something that already
held so much meaning.

Three scarves became three aprons.

One for her.
One for me.
And one for Aleah.

Three generations,
tied together
by fabric,
memory,
and love.

And when I tie mine
around my waist,
something happens.

I serve.
I gather.
I welcome.
I create.

I make room at the table.
I try to make people feel special.

Tonight, I’ll cook
while Johnny and Aleah paint—
each of us working
in our own way,
each of us building
something together.

And I remember.

Mary’s scarf.
My mom’s hands.
My daughter having one too.

Maybe that’s where
the magic lives.

Not really in the fabric,
or the stitches,
or even the apron itself.

Maybe the magic
is in what keeps getting passed down.

The things we create.
The people we serve.
The memories we protect.
The love we give away.

Because love doesn’t have
to sit tucked inside a drawer
to be remembered.

Sometimes it gets cut apart,
stitched back together,
and given a brand-new purpose.

Sometimes you tie it
around your waist…

and keep loving people. 🤍🤟

Stay rosy, Amber. 🌹

#HalfwayThere #StayRosy #LoveInMotion #ServingWithLove #FamilyTraditions #MarysMemory #ThreeGenerations #ApronStories #MakingMemories #HomeAndHeart