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May 10th, 2015


Traci and Madeline
Traci and Madeline
Traci and Matthew
Traci and Matthew
Mom, me, Bobby, Debra, Jennifer
Mom, me, Bobby, Debra, Jennifer

I loved you when I was a child, but I loved myself more.  That’s how kids are.

I did not understand what it took to raise multiple children while working and being a wife.  I just wanted my motherly needs met.

I did not understand what it must have been like to be a mom and a wife whose husband served his country during wartime.  To give birth to a child while your husband was not near, and in harm’s way.

There were a lot of things that I didn’t understand.

I’m not a child anymore, however.  And while I will never completely understand what it’s like to be a Mom, the maturity and perspective that comes with age, twenty years of marriage, and parenthood has deepened my always present appreciation for you.

With the exception of one day each May, you mothered thanklessly.  Flowers, and breakfast in bed, are nice, but they are not nearly enough.  365 Mother’s Days would not be enough.  Let’s face it, there is nothing that can compensate you for being Mom.  I know that, now, and I realize that you’ve known it and accepted it for as long as you’ve been a Mom.

I wish it didn’t take me 51 years to say the words below, but better late than never:

Thank you for putting your children first in your life – ahead of you, of work, of everything.

Thank you for disciplining me.

Thank you for your wisdom.

Thank you for your patience.

Thank you for driving me to swim practice at 5:15am and for picking me up at 7am – on your work days.

Thank you for my brother and sisters.

Thank you for listening.

Thank you for guiding me, yet letting me find my way.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

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