Mom,

To know my mom is to love her.  

I know everyone says that about someone in their life, but I think the most passionate I’ve ever felt when I’ve said this statement, is when I say it about my mom.  I think most everyone would agree.  (maybe not the lady she fought in a bar bathroom one time over Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl”, but, I digress)

She is a lover. 

She has an effortless ability to make anyone and everyone she meets feel welcomed, and not only that, but loved.  

I get texts to this day of people who I had introduced her to once and they tell me they miss her.  

She has the most youthful soul.  

No hour is too late; to watch a movie, have a dance party, make a drink, play a game, or stay up chatting.  

Our family group chat is filled with photos and videos of when my parents go out, my dad is sitting at the table filming, and my mom is the sole person on the (sometimes self-created) dancefloor.  

She is unapologetically herself.  

A lot of people are wowed that I will go up to anyone, ask for anything, or just try to chat.  I learned it from her, she would always say “it never hurts to ask”.  

She once was convinced that she could get a house in our neighborhood for $1.  It had been for sale for months and no one had bought it, she thought up plans to offer $1 for it and turn it into a bed and breakfast, she genuinely thought they would say yes.  

At any and every event she has games created, homemade cocktails prepared, and a scavenger hunt to be completed. 

She is always there.  

I’ve been out a lot lately, thousands of miles away.  And yet, my mom has always been there.  A phone call or a plane ride away. 

Being out and about recently has also led me to have some of my lowest lows, and though she sometimes might say that she has to care for a student before she can get to me, she will call me back and listen to my rants through all my muffled tears, assuring me that my circumstances are temporary, that this too shall pass.  

We always used to joke that if any emergency happened we should always call my dad because mom would never answer, but when I was hundreds of miles from home with my car totaled in an Indiana ditch, she answered my desperate call from a stranger’s phone.  

She is the glue. 

Her and my dad’s relationship have been the glue to our family for the past 32 years.  

A lot of people have told me my parent’s relationship is the only reason they believe in love, they work hard for us and to make our house a home.  

I feel lucky that my home is a happy place, somewhere I genuinely enjoy going with people I genuinely enjoy spending my time with, and it’s all credit to them. 

She has unwavering support, no idea is too big or too outrageous.  

Not a lot of parents wouldn’t bat an eye when their 19 year old daughter comes home one afternoon and says she wants to drop out of her current school and move across the country with a girl she met 3 months ago.  Her only response was, “how many college t-shirts are you going to make me buy?!” 

I sat on my kitchen floor as she held me in her arms, reminding me, once again, that my sadness and confusion was temporary, and that I should do whatever makes me happy.  

She’s my mom.  

I have a vivid memory of when I was younger, she must’ve been out of town for a work trip, and I was standing at the sink in my upstairs bathroom and I started to cry, when my dad asked me what was wrong the only words I could blubber out were “I miss mom”.  

This past fall, I hadn’t been home for four months, the longest I had ever consecutively been away.  I had been more homesick than ever before, I remember laying in bed and all I could think was, I miss my mom. 

I always have a place laying next to her while she runs her fingers through my hair.  

I always have someone to watch Netflix’s latest releases with. 

I always have a care package holding the most absurd collection of items when I’m away. 

I always have someone to call when I can’t figure out how to cook a recipe.  

I always have a hug when I feel alone.  

I always have her as not only a mom, but a friend, support system, someone to laugh with, and someone to cry with.

Happy birthday mama, I love you