In so many sitcom shows, characters joke about the fact that someone is growing up to be like their parent, as if it’s a bad thing.

Well, if I grow up to be half the woman that my mom is, I will be an astounding woman.

My mom and I have always been very close. My parents always joke about the fact that, even when I was an infant and crawling around, I would cry when my mom left the room and I would try to chase after her. This has continued as I’ve grown up; when I’m home from college, I’m like her shadow.

No one understands me quite like my mother does. She is my best friend and my partner in crime. We have inside jokes and nicknames for each other. We have our own ‘song’ and television shows that we always watch together. We share everything with each other; she makes me feel like I can be openly my true self.

My mom is so strong. Not just because she manages to take care of me, my sister, and my dad. Not just because she is an amazing cook and keeps the house squeaky clean. What I respect most is that, no matter what gets thrown at her, she goes through it and comes out stronger. When her mom and dad passed away my junior year of high school, she was upset and broken, but she remained strong for the rest of us. She kept herself together and maintained her composure for our sake. She loves us so much as to battle through her own sadness.

Everyone gets sick, even my mom. But, when she gets sick, she tries so hard to push through it. She always puts her family first, even when she is not feeling her best. Honestly, I wish she would put herself first more often because she is so amazing and deserves to be feeling her best.

My mom loves us so much. She has never missed a single one of my school plays, track meets, volleyball games, or award ceremonies. She was always the mom to volunteer in class to help out with classes and parties.

Personally, I’ve put my mom through a lot. I’ve had boy problems over the years and she has always been my shoulder to cry on and the one to snap me out of acting stupidly. From the summer before my senior year of high school until my sophomore year of college, I struggled a lot with an eating disorder. My mom pushed me to get better and helped me the best that she could -- she made me sit at the table until I finished my food, she stopped me from working out. She cared for me when I clearly wasn’t caring for myself. I also suffer from anxiety. My mom has held me through panic attacks and has dealt with my constant OCD tendencies. In her own way, she tries to help me through it all.

My family has had animals since before I was born and a dog could not have a better home. She takes them for walks to get fresh air. She feeds them good food and gives them the medications that they need. She takes them to the vet whenever they need. She takes them for drives just because. She has little rituals that she does with them, like walking to the mailbox with my one dog every single day, Sedona and Zeus are her furry children and she treats them with so much love.

My mother is a loving woman who spreads happiness where she goes. She deserves respect and gives respect. She is more caring than anyone else I know. She is beautiful, intelligent, funny, and so dedicated.

Everyone tells me that my mom and I look exactly alike. If anyone ever tells me that I am like my mom personality wise, it will be the best compliment that I could possibly receive.

I love you, Mommy. A and F to I and B.