Dear Mom

As parents sometimes I think we all vasilate in our heads about whether we did it right or not. Whether we reared our children well and set them on the paths to be flourishing adults or at best decent human beings. You did it right, Mom.

I cannot look back on my life without being present to all of the sacrifices you made so that we would have it. The whatever it. I remember well. I remember writing and coloring in the backseat of the Toyota wagon while you drove from Long Beach to Palmdale to San Pedro to Timbuktu doing taxes. I remember you building the bookcase in our den. You building our beds. YOU BUILT OUR BEDS! I remember when we walked to the Lakewood mall. I could go forever with what I remember. But you know. You were there. You were always there. All ways there.

I look at you now like those Weebles Tonya used to play with. Those egg shaped dolls that kept bouncing back. "Weebles wobble but they don't fall down." That's you. Look at you now, still beautiful. Beautiful beautiful brown skin from letting the drama slide off of you while you kept pushing forward. The most amazing head of silver hair this side of heaven from all those years of thinking long first. Thank you. You did it. You raised your children. We are beautiful and wonderful because you prayed for us. Were there for us. Thank you. Thank you.

Live now. Dance your dance now. We are here for you, lifting you always to spirit, to life, to love, to God.