It's so hard to say how much you mean to me. I look back at the heartache and worry I have caused you - amnesia (3 times, once as a kid bike riding, once as a teenager playing baseball, once as a young adult in a car wreck), my cut finger that you thought was a cut leg (I still remember the look on your face when I took my hand off my leg and showed you my cut finger), the horse accidents, getting married, getting divorced, moving away, moving to Europe after my divorce by myself for 6 months while not knowing any one there and unable to speak the language, having children at my age, and so much more.
Then I remember the good times we had together. Building log cabins, wearing the clothes you made me (loved the costumes), you drinking the coffee I made you as a kid that tasted horrible, playing cards, baking together... particularly the fudge and cinnamon rolls, having you listen to me talk about school and college, teaching me to love animals and plants and people, and this list could go on forever!
It is hard to believe so many years have gone by. Yet I would not trade one moment of having you as my mother. You have been supportive, loving and there for me. If I am half the mother to my kids as you have been to me, I know they'll turn out great.
Here is a collage for you from the kids (click to enlarge):
Pssst. I didn't tell your age. Aren't you proud of me?
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