You know, growing up, I never really understood you. I mean, I knew who you were to me and your role, but I didn’t understand you, you know? I didn’t know about all of the pain and suffering that you carried inside. I only ever saw the smiles and laughter that we had brought you, the dreams and achievements we had earned through your constant and unwavering love for us. It wasn’t until much later into my own life, having suffered myself, did I really understand you. The faces we put on for the people we love. The “pushing down of pain” we do to be strong. I see more than just the mother you are to me; I see the individual that you are. I see that the sacrifices you made for us were to ensure we didn’t end up like you; that the wager for our future was hard fought and earned bitterly by the shortcomings of your own parents. Parenthood is about transcending your own ego and your own desires in order to give your children all of the status and potential that you never had. It is very much a sacrifice. But you never wavered, you never complained. I find myself at a loss as to how I can best repay your love for me. It is my sincere hope that I am even half the parent you were and still are to me, should God smile upon me so. I know that this next step in our lives is one into the unknown. I know it will be hard to not have me around. Know that I carry you and your love in my heart wherever I go and that God has wonderful things in store for you and Dad. I hope that the next time I see you, I have little monkeys of my own, and we can share in that wonderful miracle together, not just as mother and son, but as fellow parents. I love you, Mom.


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