Dear Mom:

We’ve spent 17 years together, so where do I start?

I know raising me hasn’t been a graceful walk in the park

Sometimes I give you too much attitude and not enough gratitude.

I get antisocial and have my moody phases.

I should be showing appreciation and singing your praises.

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Although I am grateful, I don’t always show this.

Please don’t think your hard work has gone unnoticed.

The sacrifices you made for me I couldn’t begin to fathom.

I’m reaching for the words to say, but I can’t seem to grab them.

You’ve given me everything I needed although I’m quite expensive. 

You’ve kept me on the straight and narrow and knocked me back to my senses.

That’s not a metaphor, you literally knocked me back to my senses!

It seemed like having a father at home was the only thing missing. 

Then you went and found the perfect addition. 

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I had high standards for my stepdad, all of them he exceeded.

He was like the missing puzzle piece our small family needed.

You, my family, and my friends are absolutely the greatest. 
Graciously, you waited so long for me to say this.

Thank You, Mom, you raised me right. 

If what they say is true, hold tight.

The apple tree analogy is a clue.

When I grow up, I’ll be a lot like you . . .

With a teenager who will give me blues.

I love you!

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Dena Wells-Wilson

My name is Dena Wells-Wilson. I work in transportation, managing the art of staying grounded while keeping things rolling. The piano is my playground and ongoing challenge. I’m a girl mom to a grade-skipping valedictorian turned writing partner, and I live with a professional musician. I have an endless supply of inspiration. The clarity to resume my love of writing was unleashed after the removal of a mass in the right hemisphere of my brain.

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