To My Mom On Any Day but Mother’s Day.

Dear Mom,

Hello. If you are reading this, you finally checked out my blog, (took you long enough).

This is a letter to you. On a day you are feeling disappointed, on a day you are missing me, on a day you just can’t stand to hear another word out of my mouth, read this.

We’ve known each other for quite a while now, haven’t we? My whole life, actually. Isn’t it odd that you have known me my whole life but I have only known you for a portion of yours? Strange. Anyways. You know better than anyone my tendencies to get off track, so I’m going to do my best to stick to the point here.

I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible because of the love you have shown me as your daughter. Through Lord knows what, you have always, always been on my team, regardless of all the times I didn’t understand your wisdom in not letting me go to a friends house, or not letting me go to the mall on a Friday night at 9 o’clock, or making me go to bed on time at least once a month.

I look up to you. To me, you are the epitome of a strong woman. Throughout your life, at least the portion I have had the privilege to know you through, you have been the definition of a woman who fears the Lord. Your daily bible studies, (no matter how many times you have fallen asleep in your favorite chair in the living room doing them), remind me to be in the Word. The hymns that you sang at church, the harmonies you hummed in the car, the words of praise you would just sing in the kitchen as you cooked dinner; your faith inspires me. I remember being dragged along to all those BSF meetings as a kid, sitting in the corner reading a Nancy Drew book in some house in Fort Wayne suburbia, quietly listening and unconsciously absorbing the wisdom of the women of faith you surrounded me with.

I am inspired by you. You double majored in college and got your masters degree. You were a wonderfully strong working mother, at one time balancing two jobs while taking care of Matt and I all at once. You worked through a broken relationship and built the beautiful marriage alongside William E. Kaufman, my father, your husband, [i.e. relationship goals, (their 29th anniversary is coming up guys, for real)]. You raised me to be strong and independent, while still relying on friends and family when necessary.

I know you. I know that you used to drink 3+ cups of coffee a day, but now you love London Fogs, especially when I bring them to you at work. I know that you are one of the warmest, most people-person-esque people I know. I know that you love how your hair feels ‘bouncy’ after you get a fresh hair cut. I know that you love your kids and your family and your friends and your church more than I ever thought possible for any person, even though all of those categories seem to be wrapped up into one.

I am strengthened by you. Through the doctor’s appointments, the trips to school to pick me up and take me home, through the library visits when I just needed a book to escape to. In every single morning when I thought I just couldn’t do it anymore, you were there, pushing me to live and to live well despite my illness. You were and still are one of my strongest supporters. Every cheer game that you showed up to, every choir concert you attended, every piano recital you listened to, (despite how much it bored you), every musical that you insisted on coming all three nights, you were there. And when you weren’t, I felt you there in my heart. Through all the relationship woes of a teenager, you listened. Through my ever changing career aspirations, you listened. Through every brand new idea that I was sure would make us all millionaires, you listened and laughed along with me. Through every bad pun that we both immediately know should’ve come out of Poppy’s mouth and not one of ours, we have laughed together.

So this is for you. But not on Mother’s day. Mother’s day is a day to honor you, a day specifically where you should be showered with gifts and love and recognition. But this is not for that day. This is for all other 364 days of the year. This is for when our voices are hoarse from an argument. This is for when I have forgotten to do the two things you told me to do for the seventh time. This is for when being the mom of a chronically ill teenage gets hard, because believe me, this woman has been through so much. This is for every moment in between, the good and the bad, the ups and the downs.

Because that is how I love you; in every moment. Every day we are together, every minute long conversation that turns into an hour long one, every dinner we share; I love you. From the day I was born, to the day I graduate; From the day when we no longer share the same last name, to the day we say goodbye for the last time, and to the day we say hello again in eternity. I will always love you.

*cue Whitney Houston track*

So cheers to you. Cheers to my inspiration. Cheers to my strength. Cheers to my love.

Cheers to my mom.


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