My mama.

It's one of the hardest things in the world being a motherless woman. I feel a happy jealousy when I see my friends with their moms. I did not have a mom around to help me with girl stuff, to go shopping with, to watch me go off to prom, to send me away to college, to warn me about boys and watch me fall in love with my (one and only) boyfriend now husband, to fawn over my engagement ring, to help me pick out my wedding dress, or to watch me walk down the aisle. And she will not be there when I have my first child or when I need parenting advice at 2 o'clock in the morning. Truth be told, I do not remember what it feels like to be a daughter. And sadly, I do not remember much about my mother. But I do know this: I was loved.

This is my most favorite picture of my mother - pregnant with me. See, my mom HATED getting her picture taken, and she rarely ever smiled for the camera. Even in her wedding pictures, she mostly has a delighted, serene expression on her face. But I think here, with me in her belly, there's no disguising her joy.

My mom made a living crafting and creating things, and she instilled that creativity in me. She inspired my love of books and learning, reading to me nightly before tucking me in and taking me to the library weekly to check out as many books as I could possibly read. The way she advocated for my brother with autism before there were few resources available is what inspired me to work in social services. And although I miss what I do remember of her, I mostly feel sadness for the relationship I know we would have had if she lived longer. She was beautiful, giving, and exactly the kind of woman I aspire to be. Happy Mother's Day, mama. I hope you're proud of me. xoxoxo