To: THE MOMMA

The kids came home with a Mother's Day craft today. It was a precious imprint of their little hands with the quote underneath, "You will hold my hand only for a little while, but you will hold my heart forever." And I couldn't help but think of you as those sweet words rang in my ears, over and over again....

Oh, Momma. There is so very much I want to say, yet the words seem to fail me. I am overwhelmed with emotions as I search for the right way to say thank-you for all you've done. Thank-you for being there no matter what. Thank-you for being such a good example to me, and so many others. Thank-you for being... well... YOU.

I found these pictures tonight, as I was searching for the perfect shots to portray your love, and your life. And then I came across this one of me with Her Highness....

And I was reminded once again of our bond. That which cannot be broken.

Thank-you for teaching me about life, love and friendship. And that your job was first to be my Mother, and later to be my best friend.

Thank-you for all the sacrifices made and time spent just waiting... and watching.... and listening.

Thank-you for putting your own pain and agony aside the time you had a horrible allergic reaction to an antibiotic and broke out in a mega case of hives, but still trudged along after me all day back stage at a beauty pageant. I remember thinking extremely selfish thoughts earlier that week when you first got sick, "Uggh. How can she get sick NOW? I don't want her to miss the pageant!" And then, that Saturday morning when you woke me up and showed me how swollen and painful your entire body was with hives, all I could say was, "But what will I do without YOU there??" So, you quickly showered and taught me a great lesson in sacrifice.

You ran fever the entire day, and sat with chills and body aches, but tried to act as if the air conditioning was just set too low. The thing is, you never really did much to help me with hair and makeup before pageants, but I still wanted and needed you to be there with ME. I remember you seemed embarrassed each time someone would ask if you were okay, but being an extremely selfish 17 year old, I overlooked it. And didn't appreciate it like I should have. I'm sure I rolled my eyes at your suggestions later in the day as well. But, I do remember looking up at you and thinking, "Even with all those whelps, she's still so beautiful. Man, I love my Momma." I'm sorry I never said it out loud. I'm sure you needed to hear it then too.

Momma, thank-you for always being my #1 fan.

Thank-you for allowing me to make mistakes in order to grow from them. Thank-you for giving me wings to fly, and roots to keep me grounded.

Thank-you for showing me what to look for in a future husband, by choosing one of the best husbands in the world... my Daddy. Thank-you for keeping your mouth shut as I dated all the wrong guys before I finally met Bert. And thank-you for keeping your mouth shut again, after I met Bert. Had you gushed over him, the way I'm sure you wanted considering my dating history, I probably wouldn't have liked him as much. I hope and pray for the same wisdom when dealing with my own children.

Thank-you for laughing until you cry every time you get together with your sisters.

Thank-you for always listening to me, through e-mails, over the phone and in person. I hope and pray that the first call Her Highness makes after her first baby arrives is to her Momma, just as mine was....

Thank-you for teaching me how to be a good mommy...

And for teaching me the importance of balance in life....

And that there is always enough room in your heart, even if there's not enough room in your house.

Thank-you for loving my children the way you do....

Thank-you for teaching me about the Fruit of the Spirit by living it....

Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control.

I sure do love you, Momma. And I'm so proud to call you MY Momma.

I thank my God every time I remember you.

~Philippians 1:3

Happy Mother's Day, Momma.

I love you.

~Holly Beth