A Letter to Moms

by - 12:02 PM

To a collective group of women, moms, who know exactly who they are:

Dear Moms --

I don't appreciate you enough. I can't. I don't think it's possible. The sacrifices and resources that you give up, for me, without a second though, are so great that I can't be big enough to contain the appropriate amount of appreciation. But I am big enough to love you. My Opa said that you can never run out of love, that there's always room for more, and he was right. I love you all a whole lot.

Moms, you are such a collection of good. Good stories and good advice. Good humor and good food. Good intentions. You share my joys and with the same commitment, you share my sorrows. When wonderful things happen for Ryan and I, you are the first women I call. When things happen that bring me to my knees, you are the first women I call.

This year rocked me hard. I lost my Opa and I experienced my first pet death, when we lost Jayco. I found a new job and quit the old one. We started a plan to uproot our lives and now that plan is in action. Ryan and I got married. Our lives changed for good. Moms -- you were there.

You took me shopping for plastic silverware and blue paper plates. And you listened while I talked for 7 hours straight and stressed about things that didn't matter. If you minded, I didn't know. You hugged me tight when my Opa died. You answered the phone when Jayco died. You always remember what's happening in our lives and can always be counted on for a "good luck" text or a "I'm thinkin' of you" call. Most importantly, you created and raised my best friend. You made him good and honest and hardworking. You cultivated a good man who loves fiercely and forever and keeps his promises. A man who makes choices because they're the right thing to do, not because they're easy. A man who is knows that women are strong, smart, and independent and respects and rejoices in it.

You did that. And I cannot thank you enough. My life is so good because you raised a man so well.


You've shared books with me for decades. When I was 11, I wrote stories and then you read them and critiqued them and helped me to grow. You told me that writing is valuable and not a waste of time. You talked to me about education and gave me the tools I needed, and the encouragement I craved, for success. You told me to get an education and a career and to be a women who could provide for herself. You encouraged me to take pride in my accomplishments even if nobody else in our family would. You share my success proudly and validate my decisions, even with those who disagree. When I need a cheerleader, you say "just let me get my pom-poms." You argue with me when I need it and tell me "don't be so bitchy" when I need that, too.

When I was little, you trusted me to drink out of delicate china tea-cups. I've never forgotten that.


You stood by my side, newborn on your hip, when I needed you most. And you looked fabulous.


I'm glad that there is a day that we can dedicate to celebrate the moms in our lives, but may we be challenged to celebrate their fierce commitment every single day. To love them the way that they have loved us. I love you all enough to cut the crusts off your sandwiches, just like you do for me.

Happy Mother's Day, Moms. I can never appreciate you enough.



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