Our parents are our teachers. We learn everything from them. However, sometimes one them gets dealt a bad card. This could mean something happens to one of them or they just decide "they can't do this". Either way one of them decides to stand up, to take care of what is their's. That is the greatest form of love.

In my case my mom was my single parent. My dad decided he couldn't "deal" with this whole parenting thing. My mom never once talked in ill-will towards my father. However she would always say, "I never could quite understand how someone could leave such a beautiful, bright little girl." (My mom was great.)

I never met my father until my junior year of high school. This isn't because my mother kept me from him. In fact, I had been living in the same house for the past 17 years; the most ironic thing about the situation is he lived only five minutes from my house, my entire life. He never acted on his court appointed visitation. Never once acknowledged my presence, nor that I existed until I met him the day after prom for lunch. The first meeting with my father was horrid. Yes, awful, because he was everything I thought he was. He wasn't my dad. He was merely a man that I shared half my DNA with; no more, no less. He wasn't my parent, nor my father. He was a man that helped conceive me.

I remember going home that afternoon and walking straight through my front door, hugging my mom while crying. Through my tears I was thanking her. I was replaying every hard time we had, and when she continued to push through, continued to act as if this is nothing she hasn't dealt with before, that we will find the money, and that I should never worry. All of the encouraging words when I was ready to give in, to give up. She was always there. She always found a way. She didn't need him. We didn't need him.

I would be lying if I were to say I never questioned that man. He left when I was only two months old. I questioned whether he thought he was going to mess up. If he was scared. If it was me. Was I not intelligent enough, talented enough, tall enough, skinny enough, etc. I always wondered why he wasn't even the least bit curious. I came to the realization that he did me a favor.

He made me stronger. He made me work harder. He made me love myself. He gave me the strongest woman in the world. He gave me my mom. His loss was most certainly my gain.

My father was nonexistent, but always available. I never felt the need to go search for his love and affection. I just wanted validation. I wanted to know why. Why he left, why he wasn't nor wanted to be there. However it never matter. What mattered was my mom. She was my mom and dad. The only signature on my school papers. The only one I would call. She was a single parent, but her job was anything but singular. She had multiple roles, multiple jackets. She provided not only a roof over my head, but loving arms to fall into when I was scared or upset. She wore them well. She was my everything and more. She struggled for me. She was my mom. The woman that loved me unconditionally.

Single parents struggle, but they never let on. They are the world's strongest people. They would do anything for their children. We are their world and they are ours. So we thank you. On behalf of all of the single parented children, I thank you with all of my heart. Thank you for everything you do, everything you've given up. We love you to the moon and back, always and forever.