I could never imagine the dreams she had before she had me, but I’m glad she dreamt them.
I could never imagine the love that went into creating me, but I’m glad she felt it.
I could never understand the sacrifices she made to have me; I’m just glad she thought it was worth it to make them.
I could never fathom the love she showed in keeping me, but I’m so glad she felt that she wanted to.
I could never reimburse her for the countless hours she spent raising me, as time spent is never recovered.
I could never repay the million little kindnesses she showed me, thus teaching me how to be kind to others.
I could never justify the pride she had in me from the beginning; I just try to live up to it now.
I could never thank her enough for teaching me not just how how to cope with life, but how to deal with death.
I could never explain to her that as I get older, I want to take the best of her into myself and never let it go.
I could never formulate the physical theory behind absorbing a mother’s love and reflecting it back to the world tenfold.
I could never thank her enough for choosing, after my father’s untimely death, to continue to live, and live well.
I could never fully articulate the calm, cold, all-encompassing terror I felt when she told me she had cancer.
I could never fully express the joy I felt when she beat it.
I could never get from any other human on the planet the gentle but firm adherence to her values, along with the most unconditional acceptance, that she has shown me in times of strife and stress.
I could never feel the same hospitality I feel at my mother’s house at any five star establishment.
I could never repay her for being my mother.
She would never expect me to.
Happy Mother’s Day, mom.