Over the past 25 years, we've been a lot of things to each other. We have travelled together, cooked together, shopped til we dropped together. It was you that I heard running through the ER yelling my name while I was semi-conscious. It was you that stayed by side in The hospital for 4 days after having major vascular surgery. It was you who always changed my band aids. It was you who consoled my first broken heart. It was you that told me that "dumb ole boy would regret it" one day. You told me to be wary of those friends, and I didn't listen. You told me to be home by 9, I came home at 11. You were waiting on the couch, in the dark. Terrifying touch, I might add. You loved me through middle school/high school. How you did it, I'm still clueless. You helped move me into my first dorm, out of my dorm, back into a dorm, and so on for 5 years. You didn't judge me when I changed my major just shy of two semesters graduating. You welcomed Pat into the family with open arms. You celebrated ever high and held me in every low.
I have your eyes, your laugh, your sass. I have your emotional side and your love for all things 80s. I have your love for animals and love for cooking. You are my pillar. You are my guiding light. When nothing in this world makes sense, I know one thing remains: God has given me a mother whose love knows no bounds for me. For that, I'm forever grateful. I hope and pray that I am half the mom to baby Boy that you were and are to me. Life has changed a lot in the past two years. We have been through it, that's for sure. And from the looks of the news we got this week, we are just getting started. But not once did I ever doubt your strength and perseverance. I love you, Momma. More than words on a blog could ever portray.
Love,
Me
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