Year 1, Day 30

This blog today, is a special dedication to my own mother, on her birthday.

Dear Mom,

Looking back, you probably never wanted me to have such exotic animals like an untamed iguana or creepy little mice in my room . . . but you let me keep them and learn why they weren't ideal pets the hard way.

You probably never wanted to continue driving me to dance and gymnastics every week, fully knowing that I didn't have a lick of talent in either endeavor . . . but you keep treking me back and forth, until I decided on my own that jazz class required something more than two left feet and no rhythm, and that I was far too tall and "big boned" to win the gold in gymnastics anyway.

You probably cringed at the thought of enduring another band recital or listening to deafing scales, especially when I switched from clarinet to saxophone . . . but you cheered me on and let me come to my own fruition that I was done "pretending" to read music. How I got that far in band, without the ability to read music
is still beyond me.

You probably wept for joy when I opened my acceptance to Mount Holyoke but wondered how in the world we would afford such an expensive education . . . but you kept that from me and never made me feel guilty for attending or majoring in a field that I was passionate about, but would not see a large return in investment.

You probably downright cried when I told you I was headed to California to "find myself" and experience life . . . but you let me go and believed that I COULD find my way and what it was that I was looking for.

You have never doubted me, and you always supported me when I failed, made poor decisions, or made no decisions at all. You have always been there for me, in a way that I will now bring to my little boy. I love you. Happy Birthday.