5.06.2010

My Mom is Beautiful

I feel, this year, such love for you,
and the amazing things that you do.
I've been thinking more and more about
the blessing to be raised by you.

Remember all the times that we
played together in the back yard?
Remember when I cried to you
because my classes were too hard?

Remember how you cheered me on
at every softball game?
Or even through the hard times,
the good memories that remain?

I'll never forget your beaming smile
and hugs after I got done dancing.
Thanks for all the fun you let us have
when we went camping.

Remember all the girls nights in
painting nails at the kitchen table?
Or the Saturdays we spent cleaning
watching every Anne of Green Gables?

Remember how we always seem
to say what the other is thinking?
Or laugh so hard that I spit out
whatever I was drinking?

Remember when you cheered me on
running my first 5K?
I'll never forget how special I've felt
on every single birthday.

Remember how you helped me learn
to cook AND clean my mess?
Thank you for never letting me
settle for second best.

I see now how much you did for me
to make my life the best it could be.
Your smile, your laugh, your hugs and smell
will forever be a happy memory.

I'm looking forward to what is next,
to what life has in store.
I hope can be like the beautiful
mother that you are.

It's been quite the journey
that you and I have been on.
From first calling you Mama,
then Mommy, and now you're Mom.

Thanks for always loving me.
Sometimes it wan't easy.
Just know that I am who I am
cause I was blessed to have you raise me.


Love always: Sadey Jo



Mother's Day, for me, isn't just recognizing my mother and the amazing woman that she is. It is a day in my eyes to appreciate all of the wonderful women and mothers that are around me. My beautiful grandmothers, my Aunts, my close friends who are examples of being mothers, cousins, etc. The greatest gift to women is our ability to love so deeply and become mothers. Don't forget contact the women in your life who have made a difference to you.

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