Hi Mom! Did you think your article would never be written? Out of my 31 articles, you’re always the first person to read and share each one. You’ve made it clear that you’re my biggest fan, now it’s my turn to show you that I’m yours.
When I was younger, you were just a mom in my eyes. You fed me, gave me things to do, disciplined me when I did something dumb, etc. But you were also a spontaneous hugger and would randomly ask me “Do you know how much I love you?” expecting me to reply with your favorite line, “up to the sky and more”. You didn’t give me everything I wanted (but you mostly did), which at the time didn’t make me very happy, but looking back now, I’m so happy you didn’t.
Now that I’m older, I encounter people who were raised much differently than I was. They think the world revolves around them, they expect things to fall in their lap, and they use other people: most of which I vent to you about… for hours. So thank you. Thank you for raising me to be considerate, to think of others as equals who don’t owe me anything, and to work hard for what I want. The older I get, the more aware I am of how lucky I am to have you and Dad as my parents. The older I get, the closer we grow: the more I call you, the more I tell you, the more I ask you for advice, the more I want to be like you.
Even after almost 21 years of having you as a mom, you still surprise me. You do everything for other people. When people ask me about you, I tell them that. I tell them how I’ll compliment the shirt you’re wearing and you’ll tell me I can have it if I want it. You literally offer me the shirt off your back. But not only are you good to me, but you’re good to the rest of our family, to friends, and most amazing of all: to strangers. Growing up, I was used to you rolling down the car window to give money to someone who needed it. I was used to you offering to help an elderly person carry their groceries to their car. I was used to you saying yes to whoever asked you for favors.
Now, I’m used to you listening to me vent for an hour about the same thing with no complaints. I’m used to you asking me about whatever completely uninteresting thing I’m doing for work, hearing every word, and asking more questions about it when I think I’m boring you and try to change the subject.
The best part about getting older is seeing your role transform from mom to best friend. You’re always there: always offering up advice and reassurance when I need it, always asking if I need anything, always sending pictures of our dog or old pictures of us for me to wake up to.
I know everyone questions themselves, but I hope you never question yourself as a mom because I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I love you up to the sky and more.
