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A Letter To My Mother

You'll always be my Drea.

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A Letter To My Mother
David Golub

A Letter to My Dearest Drea,

Mom, Andrea, Drea, Doctor Dre, Dre Dre, Foxxy Momma, you are dazzling. You are the loudest, most obnoxious mother I’ve met. Taking you out in public is always a process. Your cackle could silence a food court within seconds and your slightly inappropriate jokes make all my friends feel uncomfortable. But you’re all mine. I love you for who you are, even though I don’t always show it.

Let me tell you though, growing up with you wasn’t easy. We’re both clearly very stubborn people that aren’t afraid to speak our mind. I can now see the necessity of you being so strict when we were younger but at the time, I resented you for all the rules and control. Any rule that you enforced caused an argument. From my picky eating habits to my rebellious early teen years, I’m happy you held your ground and didn’t kill me.

When I was younger, I was probably one of the pickiest eaters out there. My everyday meals would consist of cheerios, chicken nuggets and fries, pasta with butter, and the occasional trix yogurt. You made sure that wherever I went, I had something to eat. I knew I’d always have a hearty meal of cheerios waiting for me. Why you let these eating habits continue for so long, I have no idea. I’m sure there was a method behind your madness because I’m happy to say that my pallet has grown immensely. In addition to picky eating you let me dress myself from an age of 3. Scratch that, you let me dress YOU since the age of 3. I remember taking every single plastic bow or clip from my repertoire and covering both your head and mine. So hand and hand, we would leave the house with a full head of plastic, looking classy as ever.

Thank you for putting up with those phone calls home from preschool where I would refuse to go on the playground because I didn’t want to get sand in my red patent Mary Janes. Thank you for not ripping my head off when I would throw large objects at Max. Thank you for sharing entire Sicilian pizzas with me from Mario's. Thank you for loving me even though I knew you felt helpless during sophomore year when I thought I was a bad bitch (although if you asked Bubbe, I’d think she’d insist that I have always been, and will always be one). I know I was never a perfect kid, but I’m glad you kept me.

I can now proudly say now that you are my best friend. I know I know, you like to keep the distinction between you being my mother and my best friend but lets be real, the line between those becomes very gray for us sometimes. I can’t go a day without texting you, whether it be about your unwanted lunch dates, my outfit choices, or arguing over what time happy hour actually starts.

Half of the time, we are in our own little world. We could laugh about nothing for hours. You make my crazy ideas and dreams come to life and I am forever thankful for that. No one understands me the way that you do.

I can now appreciate everything you do for me (you too Dad, don’t worry). Even though I hate the fact that my friends like you more than me, I’ll get over that. You’re a pretty awesome human. Thank you for staying true to yourself. You embody the saying “work hard, play hard”. You party harder than any of mom I’ve met yet, you still are up at the butt crack of dawn the next morning to work out and make your thousands of phone calls tending to the plethora of organizations you volunteer for.

You are an incredibly caring and gracious person and I applaud you for all that you have accomplished in life. You truly are beautiful. People always say that we're twins and I would hate to hear that. Now, I am warming up to the notion that I might resemble you. I hope that one day I can become the woman you are today (maybe a little less loud though).

And let me just finish by reminding you that I'll love you forever,
 I'll like you for always,
 as long as I'm living, 
my mommy you'll be.

Love, Hailey

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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