I’m working on a new sporadic segment that will be a series of letters that I never plan to send. Writing is therapy for me. Names will be either omitted or changed for the sake of legal issues that could potentially arise. These will be personal, they will be honest, and they will be heartfelt. My life is an open book.
I have never felt like I thank you enough. Sure, some of your decisions were less-than-great but we all have learning curves. You did exceptionally well for being such a young single mother. We all make mistakes and there is no manual on parenting that covers every single possibility, yet you still did better than most do.
Mom, you have always been an inspiration to me. Watching you struggle to make my childhood seem lavish and comfortable never appeared strenuous to me (except the one or maybe two times I saw you cry from stress). You always seemed to have everything planned and under control. We went on vacations, we went to festivals, we tried new restaurants, we always had family gatherings for every holiday (no matter how small). Now I know that you couldn’t afford half of it but you still made it work to make sure I had a wonderful childhood.
No words can express my shame in regards to how I acted in my teen years. No one deserves to have their kids talk to them like that (yet, sadly, most have it happen anyway). I can make any number of excuses to rationalize that awful behavior, but I won’t. I will simply say that I truly am sorry from the bottom of my heart.
Having you as a best friend now that I’m “all grown up” has been such a gift to me. Hearing your friends compare me to you is the greatest honor I have ever had bestowed upon me. Looking like you is a gift, but truly showing that I have inherited your personality and morality is a pride beyond measure. You’re my support through all of my hardships.
You’re my hero and I love you.