To my person, my mom,
As I'm sitting here trying to think about what to put in this letter, I know that whatever I do decide to say could never be nearly enough to express how thankful I am to have you in my life. These next few paragraphs are barely going to even scrape the surface of all that you have done for me. I could spend days thanking you a million times over for all that you are and all that you have made me, but since I know that I can't do that, I hope the rest of the letter at least does you some sort of justice.
In my 20 years, I have never admired or loved anyone more. Now that I'm not 13 and can fully appreciate all that you did and continue to do for me, I want to apologize. I am sorry for all the temper tantrums, slammed doors, never-worn clothes, and exceeded cell phone bills. I'm sorry for all of the times I came off as ungrateful, unforgiving, unloving, or unthoughtful. But most of all, I'm sorry for how long it took me to realize how blessed I am to be your daughter.
Now that I'm not 16 anymore, I want to thank you for everything. Thank you for seeing the best in me when I was at my worst, mending my broken heart back together countless times, keeping my head in the right place, and always reminding me that my self-worth is defined by more than the opinion of a stupid boy. Thank you for making sure I always have groceries, reminding me to be kind to all those around me, and that I am taking care of myself.
Thank you for instilling in me the same compassion that you have yourself, for helping me understand the importance of putting others first, teaching me to stick to my guns and fight for what I believe in, and being there for me through every step in life totally and completely. But most of all, thank you for loving me with your whole heart. I wish I could show you that I love you too, even just half as much. I know that I don't show or tell you nearly enough, but I hope that this letter can be a start to changing that.
When I'm not 20 anymore, I hope that I'll be able to better understand all of the amazing things you do for our family every single day. I hope that when I have my own kids, I'll drive nearly three hours to see them, just because, or that I'll spend my Saturdays taking them to ballet class, basketball practice, or singing lessons. I hope that I never miss a game or a band performance (at least not on purpose, because I know all those schedules and calendars can be confusing). I hope that one day I can find within me the same sense of drive and motivation that got you to all of your successes that you have today. I hope that I can be as full of love, empathy, tenderness, and sensitivity as you. You are one of the most humble and serving souls I know -- all that I aspire to be.
I hope that I am all to you that you are to me, and if I'm not yet, please know that I'm trying. I hope you know that your trials are my trials, your aches are my aches, your sadness is my sadness, but most vital, your celebrations are my celebrations. I recently discovered a song by Andra Day called "Rise Up," and in it she says, "I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day, I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid and I'll do it a thousand times again." I could not think of more perfect words to let you know that I am always here for you as you are for me.
One of the most important things that I have learned from my relationship with you is that I should only pursue things that will make me a prouder and better person. However, even when I strayed from this you still managed to embrace me and my (sometimes really dumb) mistakes. Thank you. For everything.
See you in a month, mom. Love you,
Shannon
