When I close my eyes, I can still recall the way it felt to be a little girl with my head laid across your lap. You’d read me story after story as your fingers danced across my back, rubbing it like I so often begged you to do.

I remember feeling content in those moments; so unquestionably cared for by you.

I have a lot of memories like that, Mom. In fact, if I had to choose one thing in the entirety of our relationship that has meant the most to me—it would be this: I’ve never had to wonder about your love.

Not ever. Not once.

Your love has been a familiar rhythm every single day of my life.

Constant. Steady. True.

Always, you have stood in my corner, ready to support me tirelessly and lift me up if ever I should fall.

You’ve been someone who I could count on to love me through my best and my worst, my highest highs and my lowest lows.

From the moment I was born, you have poured love into me. You were the one to kiss my owies and chase away my bad dreams. You gave me all you had to offer through cooking lessons in the kitchen and favorite bedtime songs.

You were my mommy and I was your girl, and never did I wonder about your love.

As I grew, your support was unwavering. Even during the years when you were a single mom working long hours, you still found a way to let us kids explore every opportunity our hearts desired. You were there for every band concert, soccer game, award ceremony, and parent-teacher conference. Looking back now, I truly don’t know how you juggled it all alone—but juggle it, you did.

Your commitment to showing up for me time and time again made it so that I never, ever, wondered about your love.

And through our bumpy times, when you sent me to my room for misbehaving or sat me down for a stern talking-to after you caught me stealing coins from your piggy bank. . . or later, when you grounded me for throwing a party while you were away.

My childish heart would stew in anger, but even then—even in the middle of our conflicts—I never wondered about your love.

I’m grown now and have babies of my own. In some ways, I’m raising them just as you raised me. In other ways, I’m headed down my own path in an entirely new direction. We’re two different people, you and I, and while it’s true that we don’t always see eye to eye, I’ve never had to wonder about your love.

And when you say that you love me “infinity plus infinity” I know it’s true. I know the weight of worry you’ve carried around since the day I was born. I know the vastness of the love that fills your heart when you think of me. I know the joy, and the heartache, and the stress, and the laughter I have brought to your life.

Mom, you’ve been there for me in the middle of the day and in the darkest hours of the night. We’ve laughed together and you’ve stroked my hair as I’ve cried. We’ve shared secrets and had some tough conversations.

Through it all you’ve always done your very best, and I’ve never had to wonder about your love.

It’s because of you—because of your discipline. Your consistency. Your care. Your determination. Your support. Your morals. Your love . . . that I’m the woman I am today. That I’m the mom I am today.

If there’s anything I want my own kids to recall about me someday, it would be that never—despite my imperfections, my lost tempers, and my missteps—did they ever wonder about my love.

Because, Mom? I’ve sure never had to wonder about yours.