You have been so many things to me.
You were the den mother to me and 6 other young cub scouts when I didn’t know how to connect with other boys.
You were the team mom and my loudest fan, giving me confidence as I stood on that pitcher’s mound filled with self-doubt.
You were the Sunday school teacher who read me bible stories and forced me to go to church with you while Satan pulled at my other arm with all his might.
You were the healer who kissed my boo-boos and made them instantly better.
You were the two footprints in the sand as we walked together and my own feet couldn’t support me.
You loved me in times when I hated myself.
As I reflect back, I can only imagine the countless times that my choices left you confused and doubtful of your own abilities as a mother. Some of the decisions you made must have required you to let go of your own beliefs around what a good mother is and just follow your heart.
I’ve often wondered how and why I have survived so many years of flirting with death, hoping that the grim reaper would just take me and make the pain stop.
Today, I know the “why” as I’ve finally come to know the purpose for which God sent me here.
While, the “how” continues to mystify me, I can only point to the one thing that has been constant through it all…
Thank you mom, for fulfilling your divine purpose in life.
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