Every year on this day I feel like I write you another card saying the exact same things- I admire you, I’m incredibly thankful for you, and I love you. You’re the best. And I thought for a long time about how to put a new spin on “you’re the best”, how to say what I’ve been feeling for 19 years now in a new way, but this year I came up short.
Instead, what keeps coming back to me is this memory of you decorating a birthday cake at our dining room table. I think the cake was for me, but maybe it was for one of the other siblings, I guess I don’t remember. It had a rainbow on it, so you’re mixing up all these different colors of frosting with food coloring and good-naturedly complaining about how you shouldn’t have agreed to make a rainbow, it’s way too much work. But you’re making this gorgeous cake anyway, and its morning and the sun is coming in through the sunroom windows behind you, and I’m not usually a mental picture type person, but this one is frozen in my head.
That memory doesn’t really mean anything in particular besides the fact that you’ve given me a really great childhood. I’m sure I have hundreds of memories just like that one, little moments where you just loved and cared and did everything in your power to be a great mother.
You drive me crazy sometimes, but that’s because there’s so much of you running through my veins that it sometimes feels like we are the same person. We’re both stubborn and sometimes don’t know when to quit. But you think insightfully, you give freely, and you care deeply. I hope received the genes that contained your wise mind, open hands, and large heart.
I don’t know where I would be without you. (Non-existent to start with, but you know what I mean…) You believe in me probably more than anyone else in the whole world does. I could never say enough times how much that has meant to me. Every time I’m ready to quit and have decided that I’m not smart enough or strong enough or good enough, you tell me I am. You remind me to take it one thing at a time. You encourage me to bring it to God. And even though I hate it, you tell me that everything always looks a little better in the morning. You’re usually right.
I could write you a hundred metaphors. I could say you’re the soil beneath my roots, the wind beneath my wings, the sunrise of my first morning, the star that always points me home. I could talk about how I literally cannot imagine the love and selflessness it must take to raise a tiny human being. I could tell story after story about how you’re the queen of motherhood. But you know. I hope you know.
“Thank you” doesn’t quite cover it, and neither does “I love you”, but really, there is no sentence to describe the fullness of my heart. There are no words that could really say how I feel about this life you’ve given me. These phrases are all I have for right now. So, thank you for that rainbow cake. And thank you for everything else. I love you. You’re the best.
All of my love- your little girl.