Dear Mom and Dad,

I am in awe of you, sometimes. You've been together for over 30 years and still manage to fall in love with each other every day. You make each other better, in a way that only real love can. Your love makes me want to be a better person -- makes me want to find that other person who can do the same for me. Seeing you together reminds me that love isn't just about agreeing on absolutely everything; it's about compromise. You guys fight sometimes -- everyone does -- but in the end you're both able to reach a point where everyone is satisfied with the outcome. I trust that you are the experts on marriage; you have been doing it successfully longer than I've been alive, after all.

Young love, 1986.

When you had Sarah, you realized that you loved children so much that you just had to have another one. Thank you for that, and thank you for stopping at two. I don't know if I would have been able to handle having more than one sibling growing up.

Thank you for realizing that Sarah needed to get help when she did. I know other parents wouldn't have been nearly as attentive to her issues.

Thank you for being so caring and full of love,when you realized I would be spending most of my childhood waiting; waiting in doctor's waiting rooms, waiting in the backseat of the car, waiting for test results, waiting for Sarah to be fixed. You always made sure I wasn’t ever without a coloring book, an ice cream cone, or a bag of Cheerios to keep me occupied.

Thank you for realizing that I, too, had some problems of my own that needed to be fixed. Any other set of parents would have chalked up my misbehaving to a cry for attention, to nothing more than a need to not be forgotten. Thank you for seeing that my constant need to never stop talking, never stop moving, and never stop thinking wasn’t something I had control over. Attempting to diagnose one child while another’s condition is still completely unknown couldn’t have been easy.

Old love, just as good, 2015.

Thank you for letting me try everything and anything, even though I typically quit after just a few weeks. It wasn’t really my fault that I got so bored easily, and that karate, t-ball, art, scrapbooking, and gymnastics class just didn’t hold my attention for long enough. Thankfully, dance is the one hobby that stuck, and I’m forever grateful you let me try it after all the others failed.

Thank you for realizing that, at 14, I had stopped being my outgoing, talkative self, and that a more quiet and angry personality had taken form. That wasn’t me, and you knew that. That would never be me, no matter what the doctors told you. You would stop at nothing until you were able to figure out what was wrong, and thank goodness that you did.

Thank you for coming to every single recital and dance performance I ever had, even if I had no solos and was in the back row; there you were, cheering me on from the front.

Thank you so much for having the wherewithal to realize that your own children were more important than your siblings and parents ever would be. Thank you for leaving those who have poisoned our lives behind.

Thank you for picking the perfect little furry companion to help me get over my fear of dogs. Thank you for realizing that my fear was real, and that only Charle could fix it. I wouldn't be the person that I am today without her.

Fur love, 2002.

Thank you for always making sure there is a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and a bed for me to sleep on. I don't really need a functional smart phone and a great pair of boots that match everything, but you've always made sure I'm able to have those, too.

Thank you for encouraging me to do everything that I want to do. When I wanted to be a dancer, you were right there buying me leotards and jazz shoes. When I wanted to be a chemist, you made sure I had enough supplies to do (safe and clean!) science experiments in the house. When I decided that being an editor was my real calling, you paid for my gas so I could drive 60 miles a day to an internship that would help me on my way.

When I wanted to go to colleges out of state, you paid for the application fees, even though you weren't sure if I would get in. When I decided to give up on four-year college and stay home for a few years while I went to community college instead, you were proud of me for making the right decision.

When an opportunity came up to go work at Disneyland for the semester and summer between community college and a four-year college, you told me to go. You got me an apartment, you made sure I had everything I needed, and told me to have fun.

When I decided to stay down here for school and work, you were more than proud. You told all of your friends, you marveled at my ability to make responsible decisions, and you continued to promise to help me in any way that you could.

You have always loved and supported me, even when I have made bad choices and disobeyed you. You knew that I meant no harm; I was just a stupid kid, a stupid teenager, and a stupid adult.

Squinty-eye love, 2014.

You love me the way you love each other -- unconditionally, without worry, and despite all of my flaws. I would not be who I am today without your love and support, and for that I am entirely thankful.

There are not enough words in the world for me to tell you just how thankful I am.

I love you, Mom and Dad. Thank you for everything.

Love,

Rachel