Dear Mom, on your birthday...
I decided to write a blog post for you. I know you won't read it, because you keep reminding me that you don't know what a blog is. And that's fine. I'll call you and tell you all this later. As every year passes and we grow older, I become more and more aware of how fortunate I am to have you as a friend. You always thank me...you say you are grateful I chose you to come through you. That somehow I picked you to parent me. If that's true, I'm a genius. My life with you has been nothing short of an exceptional love affair. From the childhood memories of lap bouncing and "hug time," to dad leaving and watching you weep, to the high school years and the way you raised us (my bro and I) as well as all my friends, to the cancer and the hospital ins and outs. We've somehow grown closer and closer, striving to keep the communicative doors open, as well as open minds to allow one another to evolve into whoever it is we've become and are becoming.
I'm forever grateful. Because of you, I have tools. Tools, Ma. And it's been a pleasure watching you grow...while watching me grow.
PS: I promise, as soon as New York writes me this check, I'm getting you that big kitchen...with an island and a double oven.