Dear Mom,

Today, in the "Shoot, tomorrow's Mother's Day, and I still don't know what to do" antics of this afternoon, I (only a little) frantically started searching for some relatively fast, easy, and inexpensive ideas of what to get you. I came across some super awesome crafts and DIY projects that would've been sweet, but they probably just would've turned into more stuff that we didn't actually need and wouldn't actually use.

So I did some of them anyway.

But all that's not the point. The point is, when I was looking for ideas of what to do or get for you, I just kept thinking about you. And I might've even started getting a little teary-eyed thinking about all you've done for me. I might even be getting a little teary-eyed right now thinking about it.

Or maybe it's just allergies. I'll use that as an excuse if anyone asks.

I feel stupid writing mushy letters like this, and I feel even more stupid saying things like this out loud. Which is... stupid. Because you never hesitate to let me know how proud you are of me. And I don't do that nearly often enough for you.


Now, I don't want this to turn into a novel or anything. (If I ever work up the nerve to try to get any of my books published, I'll probably dedicate those to you, and those will be your mandatory novel reads from me. But this isn't one of those. So I'll try to keep this short and simple.)

I can't write about everything good about you because that would simply take an eternity. Not to mention, there's probably not enough open space in the Internet to list all the great things about you. So here are just a couple little things I want to thank you for.

You support me in everything I do. Even after I did stupid things like take out my anger that we lost a seventh grade basketball game out on you, a more-than-innocent-because-you-were-coming-to-support-me spectator. You and Dad always made sure someone was there to cheer me on in all my sports, concerts, award nights, graduations, everything. You're always there for me. I know I can call you up crying about a stupid boy, or a church calling I think I can't handle, or a recipe I can't figure out, or even just to chat at work or on my way home from campus.

One of the most important things I think you've taught me is how to say sorry. It's hard to admit when you're wrong, but you taught me through your example that it's important to learn how to. I can think of times at college I've messed up or done something stupid and had to apologize to somebody. That's something I hope to continue getting better at as I think of all the times you apologized to me even when I was the one who'd done something wrong.

You're the best mom in the world. Looking back, I know I didn't recognize how smart and good and right you always were about {almost} everything. But as I've gotten older, I've realized that a little bit more. I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything that you do for me. I take pride in the fact that the kids at the high school know who you are, and I take pride in the fact that my old teachers know I'm your daughter. You're not a normal mom. You're a cool mom. ;)

I've told a lot of my friends at BYU that I'm exactly like my mom in a lot of ways. And that's something else I'm proud of. Little kids always say they want to be just like their moms or dads when they grow up. I may be old enough to drive and pay rent and file tax returns, but I wouldn't say I'm done growing up yet. But as I continue to grow up, I hope I turn out to be a whole lot more like you.

You're my best mom.

Love,

Your Best Girl