To both of you,

I don't think you knew what you were getting into. But the way you rose to the occasion is unparalleled (I may be biased). I was the last of my siblings, but that did not stop me from being the most complicated. I can never imagine what it was like for you when I was diagnosed with cancer. But you were always there, by my side, through thick and thin. I never doubted that I was loved. You both made me the person I am today. I hope one day that I can be as good a parent; I learned from the best.

Dear Mom,

One of the best words to describe you is "fierce." I pity any person who wants to try to start a fight with you. But when I say fierce, I do not just mean fierce in fighting. You love fiercely. You care fiercely. You jump into everything you do with passion for it. You live life wholeheartedly, even when life tries to mess with you. And life has certainly tried to mess with you. But it never made you any less strong.

You are the person I go to whenever I'm in emotional distress, and you somehow always know what to say. You taught me some of the hardest things to learn in life, like: picking what battles are worth fighting, responding with care instead of hatred, and forgiving people who have hurt me. Even when I did not want to hear what you were saying, I always knew that you were right. Sigh. Moms.

I got my self-confidence from you. From you, I learned that it is okay to acknowledge your self worth. It is okay to say "I'm intelligent" and "I'm beautiful" and "I'm talented" (which are all things that you are). There is no point in comparing myself to anybody else, because you always made me feel like my own person. There is nobody like you, and from that I learned that there is nobody like me.

We've sure been through a lot, Mom. Every appointment you took me to, every hospital stay, every boy I complained about, every sports game, every theater production, every time I lost a friend, every teenage mood swing, every college breakdown... I still wonder how you and dad are so patient with me. But you raised me up.

And now I can stand on mountains, and make my own dreams in life come true.

Dear Dad,

How many people can say that their dad is: a 6'4" giant, a Vietnam veteran, an expert chef, a great basketball coach (of all his children, mind you), and Dumbledore-type wise? I don't think very many. I have always found it difficult to describe you to people. You, Dad, are an anomaly.

Whenever I have a problem with trying to be an adult, you are the person I go to. "Dad, how do we fill out the fafsa?" "Dad, how do I do my taxes?" "Dad, how do I buy a car?" You are full of endless practical knowledge. There is never a time where you don't have an answer to all the questions I have about adulthood. You have helped me find my way so many times. You taught me how to drive, which I am sure was the biggest challenge of all. You were always patient (I have no idea how).

We bond over food and sports. I do not know anyone who probably loves food more than us. Growing up, you were always willing to try any food once, and that's something that has definitely been passed down to me. Equally as much, your love of sports got passed down as well. Whether we're watching Phil Mickelson at the US Open or the Cavaliers in the playoffs, we're probably shouting at the television together.

Our talks in the car have always been some of my favorite moments. We could find anything to talk about, from whether or not aliens are real to what country would be the most fun to travel to. You are the wisest person I know. The things you say are always so original and so undeniably just you. Nobody thinks the way you do, I'm pretty certain of it.

You've been through so much in life, but you've never lost your happiness and your laughter. Every time I hear you say "it's just another day in paradise," I wonder if I'll have that kind of love for life, too.

I think I will. I learned from you.

I am a cancer survivor. I am a talented singer. I am a national champion. I'm going to graduate from nursing school with honors this May. But the best thing that ever happened to me, was being born as your child.