My Mama

My Mama taught me how to walk, talk, laugh, and play. She sang softly in my ear when I was a baby and instilled in me a forever love of music. She read to me early and often, then taught me how to read myself. She taught me to love old movies. She supported me from the stands at my athletic events and from the director’s chair at my theatrical performances. She taught me how to cook and make perfectly sweet tea. She taught me to both create and appreciate handmade gifts. She encouraged me in my writing and inspired me by her own. She taught me to do what is right, to fight against injustice, and to persevere in trials. She taught me to think critically and to be independent (though she sometimes wishes she could take that one back). She taught me, by example, to pursue excellence in everything I do. Most importantly, she introduced me to Jesus.

I was born on her father’s 50th birthday, and she named me after her grandmother. The second of her five children, I’m the one who looks most like her, which I take as a compliment. We both love to stay up late, sleep late, and take afternoon naps. Our love of coffee is strong and of chocolate even stronger. We are both stubborn but genuinely try to use it for good. We love to be right but are gracious to each other when we’re wrong. We both understand the significance of motherhood, and neither of us takes the responsibility lightly.

Mama, thank you for all that you have taught me and for all the ways that you have loved and cared for me. It has been a gift to be your daughter.