Mom….. Mother, Mommy, Madre, the person who raised me, the person who always holds me tight: thank you.
March 11th, 2001, at 6:15pm. That’s when the bond began. You brought me into this world surrounded by love and understanding, and you have continued to do so ever since. I’ve known you my entire life, and boy, have I been lucky. By default, I became your daughter, and by default, I’ve received your unconditional love.
You’re the most patient person I know, and sometimes I’m jealous of your ability to stay calm and collected during any event. You’re the light in my darkness leading me through tough times. I love you, and I can’t say that enough. You continue to go above and beyond for everyone in your life. It makes me hope that I can become half the woman you’ve shown me to be.
You are inspiring. Your work ethic and intelligence are astounding. Sure, you got your doctorate in psychology, and sure, you started your own practice, but all that is easy compared to the life you traded it for. You could have kept working, advancing your career, and helping others, but you chose to drop all it, selflessly, for us. I will be forever grateful because I can say that I spent the most important years of my life with one of the most important people.
My childhood was filled with blissful memories, all because of you. You made life fun, and you still make life fun. You’ve opened my eyes to new ways of seeing the world, and you taught me how to learn from it. What makes you so special is that I know that even if you weren’t my mom, I would still want to know you. Your personality attracts. I admire your ability to treat everyone equally no matter the bias that surrounds them, and how you can enter into a conflict with knowledge from both sides.
I never truly learned to appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You comforted me when I was too shy to make friends. You were level-headed when I was too upset to work through my feelings. You were kind when I was filled with hate. You loved me in every form that I have come in. You watched me grow. Yet you never pushed me to become something I wasn’t, something I wasn’t comfortable being, something I wasn’t ready for. You were a gentle breeze in the air, lightly guiding me along the path, and for that, I thank you.
Thank you. Thank you for laying next to me in bed when I couldn’t sleep at night in the thirrd grade. Thank you for teaching me how to breathe when I was too anxious (three in, and three out). Thank you for always writing notes in my lunches on the first and last days of school (I still have most of them hanging up in my room). Thank you for your patience during the horrible adolescent years, where all I did was sit in my room and gave you attitude. Thank you for listening; you made it a point to hear my problems and help me work through my emotions. Thank you for being you, mom.
Sorry dad, I promise you’ll be next.
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