Thank you for the legs that allow me to get myself up out of bed in the morning. For the legs that let me run when I’m scared, jump when I’m excited, and slow down when I’m nervous. Thank you for the legs that grew up with me, that allowed me to stand my back against the basement door with multiple red lines and dates to the left of it, marking the progression of my childhood.

Thank you for the arms that hug mom and dad in the morning. The arms that pull on my favorite over-sized sweatshirt and button my favorite ripped jeans. Thank you for the arms that cuddle my dog after five months away at college. Thank you for the arms that comb my knotty hair after a long day, that reach for stuff up high, and pull up the blankets on a chilly January night.

Thank you for the hands that write my favorite articles. Thank you for hands to hold. The hands that held dads as we cautiously crossed the street, and friends as we steadied ourselves in our high heels on a Friday night. Thank you for the hands that brush away tears, rest on another’s rosy cheek, and run through a lover’s hair. The hands that cook my family dinner after a stressful day. Thank you for the hands that allow me to drive out with the girls, visit grandma on a Sunday afternoon, and travel home for a weekend away from college.

Thank you for the eyes that see the world. The eyes that linger through the pages of an open book, and take in the beauty of a deep pink sunset. Thank you for the eyes that can capture the loveliness of a loved one's smile.

Thank you for the ears that can sympathize with the sound of lyrical heartbreak. The ears that remember the comforting sound of a mother’s voice, and the birds chirping early in the morning. Thank you for ears that recognize the sound of a warning alarm.

Thank you for the voice that lets me state my opinions, offer advice to friends, and “I love you’s.” I cherish the moments where I laugh so hard I cry. The tender moments deserving of an I love you sneaking through close lips, and the exciting moments that beg a scream.

Thank you for the pain. Thank you for the nights where my lips quivered uncontrollably, and tears seeped into my pillowcase. Thank you for the days I wasn’t sure I could handle, for the heart-pounding, stomach turning, hand-sweating days where all I wanted to do was curl back into bed and avoid the world for as long as I could. Thank you for the pain because you taught me that I could handle so much more than I ever imagined. Thank you for giving me the strength to face the uncontrollable mix of emotions, and mental breakdowns. For guiding me through tough decisions, and the ache of losing a loved one.

Thank you for the love that I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by. For family, friends, and kind strangers. Thank you for the love you’ve given me, and taken away. Thank you for teaching me how to love, fully, and how to recognize when love it no longer there.

Thank you for the heart the tiny little muscle you’ve placed inside my chest. Thank you for giving me something so important, so fragile. For keeping it beating as I ran around the playground at recess, as I crashed while learning to ride a bike, walking my dog around the neighborhood. Thank you for keeping it beating on the first day of school, through scary dreams and haunted houses, through kisses, and the middle school mile. Thank you for placing something so important inside of me. For giving me the ability to chase my future kids around the house as we play hid n’ seek and tag, for the ability to follow my dreams. To fall in love. To grow.