I'm sure you've known that this article has been in the works for some time now, but it's your own fault it hasn't been published yet. There's just too much to say about you--all good things though, don't worry.
You're the strongest person I know. You're Sandra Bullock from "The Blind Side." One tough cookie. Just knowing that you had to deal with me as a teenager proves it. You're a pediatric nurse; you deal with parents worrying about their child's health, dumb questions that even I could answer, working every other Saturday--when you really should be at the beach--and trying to make time for your daughters to call you and complain about their day and all the things going wrong in their life. You've taught me how to stand up for myself, always reminding me that "though I am little, I am fierce."
You're the person who can make me "laugh the hardest I've ever laughed in all my entire life." The inside jokes we share ("I'm not sending my soul to hell by arguing with you right now), hyping me up ("Your makeup looks so good!"), and even roasting me like a turkey on Christmas (I'm not sharing these for obvious reasons). I can still remember the phone call where my jaw hit the floor about every five seconds because of the roasts that left your mouth. Well played Mama Bruh.
You're the one who calls me out on my B.S., and trust me, there is A LOT of that. I complain too much about all that I have to be grateful for. You remind me that many of the inconveniences that happen to me are "first world problems" and that I should "put things into perspective." No one else can call me out as you can. You're straight to the point, not giving me any room for ifs, ands, or buts. Because of that, you've made me a better person.
I don't cry often, but when I do, you're the first person to pick me back up. From the famous "World War III" breakup to Buddy, and to when I thought I failed my first math exam in college. You have been there through it all. I don't like being vulnerable, I don't like being "weak", but you remind me that even the strongest people have to let it out sometimes, that it's ok to cry. You'll always make sure to make me laugh before finishing the conversation. I'll be sure to do the same for my daughter.
The most important lesson you've taught me is that you're not supposed to be my best friend growing up, you're supposed to be my mom. You're allowed to tell me what to do, you provide for me, and you demand the respect you greatly deserve. But, you're going to love me unconditionally, support my dreams and ambitions, and you'll respect me just as much as I respect you.
But, now that I am in college and "grown", it is safe to say that you are my best friend. We argue with each other, you roast me on the daily, you give me advice, you make me laugh, you support me, you love me, and you inspire me. All the things that a best friend should do.
Marley and I are so lucky to have you as our mom. You've shown us how to be graceful, smart, faithful, and ultimately badass. You're the whole package deal (dad is really lucky, too).
Without you I'm pretty sure half of my clothes would still be missing, I wouldn't know how to cook, my laundry would shrink or turn pink, and I wouldn't have the amazing life I do now.
I could write a whole lot more than 740 words, but then I'd spend forever behind this computer and you forever reading. So know that I'm grateful for so much more than what I've already said, and for the many more things to come.
All that's really left to say is that I truly am my mother's daughter, and I couldn't be prouder.
I love you more than I love dogs (yeah, I said it).
Love,
Your Joy