Dear Mom,
Thanks for everything you did for me. You gave me stories to tell. Most of them are sweet or funny, but some are twisted or tragic.
You gave me pretty good advice about how to pick up "gentleman callers." You even helped me pick up a few. Remember the time we went to Houlihan’s and you interviewed potential dance partners while I was dancing with others? Or the time you taught me how to say, "I want your body," in Spanish because of that really good looking Venezuelan catcher?
You became my best friend even after years of telling me that you loved me because you had to, but you didn’t always like me. It’s amazing how close we became even after those high school years. I guess for that you taught me how to forgive. Or maybe just forget.
I still carry the weight of you always worrying about my weight. You tried to save me from your eating issues, but the way you did it gave me my own. But you also showed me that self-acceptance was a goal worth working for. You might have looked like a nana, but you were one hot nana who had your share of gentleman callers.
You gave me some of your crazy. For that I’m not sure if I should thank you, but maybe someday my kids will. Because my children will have stories. Some sweet, some funny, and most definitely some twisted and tragic.
Thank you, Mom, for everything you did for me.
