"Hey, Thanks"

We all have one person in our lives who is there every step of the way. Through the thick and thin, your ride or die, right? That one best friend who never gives up on you and believes in you and pushes you to be the best you that you can be; for me, that's my mother.

This woman has put up with my shenanigans and crap for 23 years, that alone deserves a round of applause. Because let's face it, I was not the world's greatest son but a large margin.

My mom is my best friend, and I truly mean best friend in every sense of the word. I share just about everything with her. I can talk to my mom about literally anything in the world and I know she will listen and not judge me for what I'm saying. I've talked to my mom about personal issues that some people would never be able to even begin to think about talking to their mothers about.

My mom is a warrior. Not in the sense that she's fought people but she has battled and been through so much with me and in those battles I've learned so much from her. Patience, empathy, to take the high road, to name a few. I learned how to make the most of a negative situation, but I learned two more important lessons than anything else she knowingly or unknowingly taught me.

That a mother's work is never done and that her love will never fade.

I watched my mother work disgusting hours at a job she may not have liked just to be able to give myself and my sister a nice Christmas. I watched my mother, exhausted, help me with homework and cook me dinner at the same time, along with helping with projects to ensure I got a good grade. Proof read papers and packed lunches all while dealing with her own personal life and what she had going on that I had no idea about. Over the years and through growing up and going through high school, I was a handful. I was angsty and had an emo phase that still really hasn't gone away. I would get in trouble in school or have a bad report card and then to come home and fight with my sister or cop major attitude could not have been easy. Sure, mom yelled or got mad at me, it's reasonable, but you better believe that she came and talked to me after we both had cooled off explain to me why she would yell at me and why I was in the wrong. (Which I basically always was being overdramatic or just wrong) that, coupled with the medical issues I was dealing with was more than enough to push a weaker-willed person over the edge, but not my mom. She helped me deal with what was going on and pushed me to overcome what I struggled with.

Did I mention I'm the luckiest kid in the world? Because I am. I was heavy into an emo phase that never left, and for the most part, she supported me with it. Would give the bands I loved a chance, even would have Santa get me the clothing that went with it. At that time, 2005-2011 (middle school an high school) it was Glamour Kills clothing and skinny jeans. I remember getting the shirts for Christmas and being so excited to have them and wear the same merch as my favorite bands.

My mom is my best friend. She taught me hockey. We all remember where we were for the Stanley Cup clinching game this summer. I watched the game with my mom and we both cheered and yelled a little. Honestly, I think it made all of that excitement that much more fun. I mean, how many people can say they willingly went on an awesome road trip with their mother and spent a week in Boston with her and loved every second? How many of them would do it again tomorrow if they had the choice? I know I would. I honestly don't give my mom enough credit for what's she's done and how her belief in me pushed me through some dark times in my life.

Thank you, momma. For being the coolest, strongest, most badass person I've ever met. Keep being you. I love you so much.

Love, proudly, your son.