The warm summer night air blew against our bodies as my mother and I strolled through the empty lot behind Old Joe's Mini Market on our way back to the house. The dead grass brushed our feet and we could still smell the stench from the dumpster behind the store. I began to concentrate, trying to capture every moment and preserving it in my head. It was my 17th birthday and for some reason it was different. The memory was more significant than any other birthday I ever had, my mother's simple ways of surprising me later on that day made it a special one.

I remember that day clear as water. The distant sounds of mariachi music and the smell of barbeque filled the streets, signifying a celebration being held somewhere nearby. My mother and I had just arrived from an evening stroll around the town, commenting...