I am grown now.  And I am strong.  Yet sometimes I trip.  And I am helped up.  Mostly by you.  When I have a bad dream, I tell you.  And you listen.  When I am alone, mostly you are far, yet you are with me every day. When I am feeling less than strong, I remember your steadfastness.  At the end of the day, when I am completely stuck with a dinner idea, I am reminded of your innovative baked concoctions of leftover spaghetti, ham, meatloaf and wild rice.  Or your trendsetting salad soup.  And I am saved.  When I’m worn out and overwhelmed by piles of waterlogged laundry sitting on a flooded basement floor, it is your small practical voice that says to run an underground downspout drain away from the house.  It is that very same voice that reminds me to reuse my teabag.  Save twisty ties.  Put on a patch.  To walk there.  Don’t take too much you can always go back for seconds.  And don’t worry about the mold.  You can just cut it off.  You are the one who taught me to play the harmonica, tie a good knot, and watch out for poison ivy.  You are the one who taught me to remain happily married through a particularly long ragweed pollen season.  And to love my girls and dress up with them often in superhero costumes.  You are the one who taught me to watch the telltales and head up when the wind picks up.  To make it past that point.

Mom, it is you.  You are the one.  Happy Mother’s Day.

I love you and your amazingness.