In the moment, I felt as though I was in the midst of my biggest personal catastrophe of 2016. With less than a week to go before Senior Ball, I felt the constraint of the dress zipper as my friend calmly attempted to complete the motion, which should’ve taken about two seconds. Though she successfully did so with feigned confidence, I was completely confident that I could not move an inch without having difficulty breathing.

After a few desperate calls to my mom, several hours away on a trip, about what exactly I should do, the only feasible solution was in the form of my aunt Kate, who conveniently lives about three blocks away. And so I put my fate in her hands.

Looking back, it seems foolish to think that I was worried about what the outcome of the little mishap would be with Kate in command. After picking me up early the next morning, no questions asked, and acting as a successful translator between my desires and the slightly confused tailor, my dress arrived in perfect fitting form two days before the dance and I reveled in my ability to comfortably dance without feeling the pressure of too many champagne-fueled appetizers.

In this sense, it feels somewhat inappropriate to begin with giving Kate the simple title “Aunt.” Upon even a minute of reflection, I can think of several other titles that are perhaps more fitting: Godmother, Second Mother, Savior-in-Dress-Emergencies.

Several years ago, I underwent another personally traumatic experience, this time involving a swim meet during which I noticed the girl next to me beginning the Individual Medley with backstroke instead of butterfly, and me deciding to follow her incorrect lead in a fitful panic. I took swimming fairly seriously, and so this was a crushing blow to my ego. Upon my mini breakdown after the unfortunate event, it was Kate who was there for me, as I dramatically fell into her arms and let her comfort me as I mourned my loss.

I cannot remember a time where I didn’t live about three blocks away from Kate. Due to our convenient proximity, I have had the pleasure of babysitting her and my uncle’s two boys, and as they have gotten older, acted as more of a (hopefully) fun older sister. To have been able to witness them grow from angel-faced, innocent toddlers, who went to bed with no more than a single book or back tickle required, to endlessly entertaining characters who have me in fits of laughter at all times has been incredible.

The reason I note this transformation is because of the obvious credit I give Kate for it. She is unquestionably one of the most outstanding mothers I have ever witnessed, and to be able to see it firsthand is nothing less than a blessing, a model from which I can only to emulate when I grow up and have children of my own. Her dedication and involvement in all areas of their lives, stemming perhaps from her previous career as a teacher, or more likely than that an inborn gift, is awe-inspiring. If I am half the mother she is I will consider myself to be a wild success.

I am beyond grateful to have you in my life, Kate. I only hope we are still making fun of Mom’s lunch choices at Gail’s years and years from now... and also that you start posing in more pictures so I won’t have to use one of myself and your boys in future articles for lack of any featuring you.