It’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow, and I’m having trouble writing this post. Not because there isn’t enough to say, but because there literally is nothing that she is not to me.
She is my best friend, my first and best teacher, and the person who cares more about me than anyone else in the world.
She (and my dad) has given me everything in my life. She raised me to know and love God, she taught me how important family was, and she loves me no matter what.
She loves my husband and my children and genuinely delights when I am happy.
Last year, I did a 60 times I loved you thing for her 60th birthday. There are so many more than 60.
She sat in the nicu with me every day all day when I was born, never stopping praying or believing that I would be okay.
She kept me hooked up to a heart monitor waaaay longer than she was supposed to because she worried about me.
(And look! It changed generations!)
She listened to me go back and forth over every single academic decision I ever made.
She was super proud of me for having an office.
When I passed, she was the first person I called. Not my fiancé. Not my friends. My mom. Because no one had been through more with me and cared more about that day.
She wore a dress to my wedding even though she really didn’t want to.
She knows when I need help without being told.
She helps me literally every day with something.
She is amazing.
I love you, Mommy! I can’t wait to celebrate another year with you!
(And by celebrate I mean have you take care of my crap for another year.)
(Yay! Get psyched!)