To my mama—

Remember when I was a teenager and I’d drive you crazy with all of my requests to go to a friend’s house or stay out later or drive cross-country after graduation? Remember when we’d fight and I’d be mad at you because I couldn’t process my emotions well enough to articulate my feelings in a mature way? Remember when I’d give you an attitude because I thought I knew everything and was so amazing at age 17?

Thank you, mom.

Remember when I had my first child and you were right there with me and my husband in the delivery room—holding my hand, calming me down? Remember when you stayed with me when my second daughter was born and my husband had to go back to work—because I was too nervous to be on my own? Remember when I called you crying recently saying how I didn’t know how I was supposed to do all of this? (Okay, that last one might be just about every other week…but who’s keeping track?)

Thank you, mom.

Remember when you painted with my oldest daughter for hours on end? Remember when you taught her how to whistle? Remember when you took me and my baby on a 700 mile road trip because you wanted us there and thought it’d be a fun adventure?

Thank you, mom.

Remember when you brought me that beautiful pink dress for my daughter’s baptism because I couldn’t find anything that felt good to me on my postpartum body? Remember when you told me not to put so much pressure on myself to lose the weight? Remember the countless times you told me I was beautiful—inside and out?

Thank you, mom.

Remember when you sent me flowers to celebrate an exciting accomplishment? Remember when you encouraged me to “Write your ideas down! You have a book inside of you!”? Remember when you reminded me not to doubt myself?

Thank you, mom.

I haven’t lived at “home” in New York for over ten years, because I’ve been creating a home for myself and my family in Massachusetts. Not because I wanted to be far away from you, at all. In fact, I wish I could convince you/trick you into moving up here. But I can’t because, well, that’s not exactly how life works.

And I’ve missed you every day since moving away.

And I miss you even more (if that’s possible) now that I have kids.

I miss being able to see you at the drop of a hat.

I miss—in a lot of ways—what I never had with you. I never lived near you after college. Or since having kids.

We’ve never had the opportunity for you to just drop by and hold my newborn without having to plan a specific timeframe of days that worked for you to take off from work and make sure you didn't have any appointments and book the ferry and all that jazz.

We’ve never had the opportunity to plan a movie night on a whim because my husband would be home from work at a reasonable time and I could shoot over once he got in. I’ve never been able to ask you to come to a last minute outing I planned for the kids because I could use the extra set of hands.

But even though we have these “nevers”, we also have a lot of “remembers”—we work hard at making time for each other even if we are a five hour drive away. We may not see each other quite as much as I’d like, but we still do see each other a lot. And we’re lucky for that.

So, mom...thank you.

Thank you for always being there for me when I need you—no matter what.

Thank you for always being only a phone call away.

Thank you for always being the supportive, loving mother I need in my life.

I know we don’t always agree on every single little thing, but Mom? I want you to always know—there is just nothing like my mama. No one can hug me the way you do. No one knows me the same way you do. You know the sound of my heartbeat, and I know the sound of yours.

I may not live “home” in New York anymore, but part of my home will always be there because you’re there, Mom. You have part of my heart with you always, and I yours.

Remember that time you carried me in your womb for forty weeks and gave me life?

Thank you, mom.


Your daughter