I could never explain to anyone how proud I was to see my parents at Founder's Day Convocation at my college. I had mentioned that I received a scholarship, and they decided that virtual hugs were not enough to show just how proud they were of me. Not only did they want to be the world's biggest cheerleaders for their only daughter, they wanted to take part in a tradition at my college that fills my heart with the most joy - the walk to Monument Hill to commemorate the founding of my college. Although neither were students at my college, they were a part of such a special tradition because they care about me. Realizing my "only child syndrome" may be kicking in and causing me to think selfishly, this care goes beyond just flattery.

After the ceremony, my relationship with my parents was really put into perspective. My mom made a post on Facebook to announce my scholarship, and the following statement was made:

"Somehow, "proud" doesn't quite sum it up. What do you say when your daughter has become your hero and represents what you strive to be?"

I used her words, because mine could never compare. While some see my parents as being over-involved and annoyingly supportive, I see them as the best support system I could ever ask for. To think that I am a hero to my mother, who has been a hero to me throughout my life is unbeknownst to me. To think that I am a hero to a woman who handled every emergency with grace, balanced working full time in Recreation and working full time as a mother, and somehow managed to care for herself somewhere in the middle. The woman who went back to school while raising a middle school daughter, working on assignments at my softball practices, staying up until the wee-hours of the morning putting final touches on a paper, and somehow managing to make stellar grades while keeping up with the expectations of her job sees me as a hero? Putting in perspective how she sees me as what she strives to be is a compliment that has stuck with me.

Although my dad is not as Facebook-oriented, nothing made me happier than hearing my dad say he is proud of me after I received notification of my scholarship. As a "Daddy's Girl" tried and true, sometimes the smallest of statements can have the biggest affect. While hesitant to carry daisies during the walk, my dad gives the best gift any parent could ever give their child - reassurance. My college career has been a crazy one, filled with unexpected twists and turns, yet getting reassurance from my dad reminded me that I am doing everything right - or as right as I could possibly be.

So no, I am not over-reliant on my parents. It is not an unhealthy relationship. My parents have always told me that I do not need to report to them. I don't have to tell my parents about the night I ate an unhealthy amount of Reese's Cups, drank too much hot chocolate, and pulled an all-nighter to finish work for one of my History classes that I put off a little too long (although they'll know now that it happened). I don't have to tell them when I seldom do go to parties, and I don't have to tell them I spent my evening taking a bubble bath in my apartment behind a locked door with a good book. Yet, I know that if I want to tell my mom about a plot twist in a show we're binge-watching on Netflix, she's a call away. I know that when my car radio cuts on while I'm in class and convinces me that the car is possessed, I can text my dad and he'll fix it. While some think my parents care too much, I think they're ideal parents. But what else can you say when your parents are your heroes and constantly give you something to strive towards being?