To my mom,
You’ve been my mom for almost 29 years now. You know me better than anyone else and you probably always will. From the first time you held me in your arms, you have been there through everything. You’ve been there through every bruise, bump, and scrape. You’ve also been there the wounds that weren’t physically visible to the outside world.
You were there for every school project and there were times that you got as frustrated as I did but we managed to get through it. You wiped my tears when the other kids said mean and hurtful things and reminded me that words were just words. You were there for every parent-teacher conference and ever Christmas and spring concert. You were one of my biggest fans when it came to my music and did everything you could to make sure I had the tools necessary to achieve greatness in my musical abilities. If it weren’t for you, I would have quit the moment I couldn’t get the right sounds out of my new flute or when my fingers couldn’t find the right keys on my piano.
You did your best to keep me safe from the cruelty that was starting to take over the outside world and at times it caused arguments between us because I just didn’t understand that you were just trying to keep me as safe as you could.
You made sure that I had wonderful birthdays and holidays. You always made Christmas festive and bright and you made sure that Santa always left good presents under the tree. You made sure that I never felt left out on Mother’s day and even began deeming it girls day to celebrate both of us.
We used to go to the park and the movies and we would have a blast. The mall was our favorite place to go on a mother/daughter date and I always looked forward to Red Lobster for lunch. But then something changed.
I hit that lovely thing called puberty and the bond we once had crumbled. I went through changes, physically and emotionally, that I didn’t know how to deal with. I’d never had to ask for your help before, you always just seemed to know when something was wrong. So when you didn’t offer any advice or help, I assumed that I was on my own. It never occurred to me that you had no clue what kind of turmoil I was going through in my own head nor did you know how to help fix it.
I began to sink into my own thoughts and not only did I start pushing myself away from everyone, I began pushing you away too. I was no longer interested in hearing your opinions and I didn’t want your help when it was offered. A lot of times, I didn’t even realize you were trying to help me. In my mind, you were trying to turn me into someone I wasn’t.
When I entered adulthood and it got worse. You didn’t know that I had been battling depression since my freshman year of high school because I never told you the things that continuously haunted my thoughts. I didn’t tell you how sad I constantly was because I figured you would tell me to suck it up and deal with it. I never gave you the chance to help me. Instead, I moved to a new town and did everything in my power to push you away even further. I didn’t see that you were trying to help me, not hurt me.
I made mistakes, some monumental ones at that, because I thought I knew what was best for me. Although you offered your advice, I chose not to listen, only to figure out later that you were right. I got myself into holes deeper than a grave and almost every time, you were there to make sure I wasn’t buried alive by my own hand and shovel.
Even after all the times I pushed you away, you made sure that myself and my kids were fed, clothed, and safe. You supported us for two years while I tried to fix the mistakes I had made and you did everything in your power to make sure I could do what I needed to rebuild from the bottom up. You watched my kids while I worked long and crazy hours to try and save money to make it on our own, sometimes neglecting yourself to make sure none of us were neglected. And for some reason, I still thought you were trying to hurt me, not help me. And again, I pushed you away.
These are things that you already know. You’re a smart, intelligent, woman so I’m sure you figured out that I didn’t understand that you were just trying to help me. But here are some of the things that you don’t know.
I’ve ALWAYS Admired How Strong of a Woman You Are
Growing up, I watched you go through health problem after health problem and you never once let it stop you from being a mom and a wife. You never let your health affect how clean the house was or if there was dinner on the table. You never let it affect any plans you may have had with dad and I, whether it was a vacation or just a trip to the park, you always made sure that we came first. What amazed me the most was how hard you tried to never let it show just how sick you really were.
I’ve ALWAYS Respected You
It takes a special kind of woman to do the things that you have done. It takes a special kind of woman to take a baby into her arms that isn’t hers and raise it as her own. It takes a special kind of woman to drop everything in her life, with no notice, to go pick up a baby that she has never met and continue sacrificing for that baby for the rest of her life. It takes a special woman to put up with the mean and hurtful words that would eventually come out of that baby’s mouth years down the road and let the words roll off her shoulders like rain on a windshield.
I can’t imagine the amount of tears I have caused to fall behind the closed door of your bedroom in the dead of night when no one is looking. But you’ve never loved me less because of it. You’re still there when I need you and you’re still only a phone call away.
I ALWAYS Wanted to Be Like You
You have no idea how many times I counted every coin in my piggy bank, thinking that I was being just as money savvy as mommy. You have no idea how many times I have wished I could manage money the way you do. I’ve always wanted to have a home like yours and a husband like dad. When I got older and my relationships always seemed to fall apart I wished so desperately that I could have the marriage that you and dad have. Whether you realize it or not, you shaped the idea of the life I wanted.
I ALWAYS Have and ALWAYS Will Worry About You
In high school I hated the days that you weren’t home before me. I always feared that something had happened to you between work and home. Being before the days of the cell phone, I couldn’t call you to make sure that you hadn’t just picked the wrong cashier to check out from at Wal-Mart and you’d be home soon. I hated the days that you laid on the couch most of the day because that meant you were feeling sick enough that you couldn’t hide it from me. Even now, living four hours away, there are days I worry if you’re alright and I call with random questions or conversation topics just to hear your voice.
All I Ever Wanted Was to Make You Proud
That’s it. The big mystery of my major malfunction over the years. All I ever wanted to do was make you proud. I tried doing things that I had absolutely no interest in and eventually gave them up, one by one, when I didn’t receive the praise I was looking for. I don’t know if I’ve ever been able to succeed at making you proud (you are kind of the silent type) but maybe one day I will be able to.
I love you mom. No matter how mad I may get at you, no matter how irritated you make me, I’m still your little girl and I still miss you every single day. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, you’ll always be my mom.