An Open Letter To My Mom

Dear Mom,

Although genetically, I am only one half of you, in every other way, I am your mini-me. Everything I am today, I thank you for, because you have taught me the ways of being a genuinely good human. My earlier memories with you are often in the nursing home that you work in. I was probably around six or seven years old. I remember our favorite patients and I remember how important your work was to them. As many of them have passed on, I remember feeling the love that would fill the air when you were in the room together. Your patients would tell me how much you brighten the room and just how much I resemble you. That will always be a compliment, because you are the greatest woman I know. Those days in the nursing home meant little to me while I was young, but looking back on them, nearly fourteen years later, the lesson I learned was to value all stages of life.

A few years down the road, I remember being thirteen or fourteen, getting ready for my eighth grade dance. One of my friends and I were getting our fancy dresses on and painting our face with an arrangement of makeups that I wouldn't be caught dead in these days. Although we probably looked atrocious, I remember your giant smile as we walked down the long staircase to showcase our work. Of course you took millions of pictures that haunt me still, but you were so proud of me. Just as you were at my eighth grade graduation, my high school graduation, and just like you will be on the day of my college graduation. I sure haven't been an A student, I'm not sure I ever will be, but as long as I have ones and twos in effort and conduct, I know I will make you proud. During my younger teenage years, you taught me how important hard work is.

My senior year in high school was one of our hardest years. I remember how hard you were working toward your next degree in school, and I also remember how sick Papa was getting. I remember waking up every week day, and both of us would head off to school around the same times, with the same bagged lunches. Not only were you going to college full time, but you were working full time, and also helping Papa full time. One of my very least favorite memories occurred very close to the day Papa passed away. Although those weeks seem blurred to me now, I really can't even remember the day exactly. We were both sitting on Papa's couch, I was probably watching TV or on my phone, and you were studying hundreds of flashcards, a pile too large to hold with two hands. You were studying for your final, and you had already put numerous hours into studying. I remember how nervous you were, and how quick I was to try to help you brush it off. The next day, after you had finished the final, you were so nervous that you didn't do well, but I knew in my heart that you did just great. Although I don't remember exactly how well you did do, I remember going to your graduation, and watching you grab your diploma. Even though that year was especially hard for us, you taught me the importance of family, and the importance of making and reaching goals.

Now, as I near twenty, all I can think about is how many years you went without recognition from me. I think about all of the lessons you have taught me through memories that we have together, and I am so thankful for every single one. Although most of my memories are older ones, they hold value and importance in my heart. Through all of your hard work and all of your long nights of studying, staying up with my brother and I, and everything else you have done for us, you have shaped me into who I am. No matter what time of day I call you flustered because my career after college will be a poorly paid one, you remind me how great I am, and how I was made to be a teacher. I cannot thank you enough for being the strong and independent young mom, that has shaped me into the strong and independent young woman that I am today.

I love you always,

Anna