It was a lucky Friday the 13th when you were born, and here it is again. I loved being your mother, taking care of my precious little boy. We were so proud of you while you were growing up. You tried so hard, and were good in everything you set out to do. Your 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Pratt said that you were talented, and could do anything. You were super at soccer, fabulous on the violin, good at drawing, and smart in school.
You have gone through some pretty tough times in the last few years. But you kept climbing up, getting through the trials, and bettering your life. I'm proud of you for your accomplishments, but more proud of you for your tender heart.
As a little boy you seemed to be the most caring. When I was sick, you expressed your concern, and wanted to help. When I was pregnant with Adam, and could not do the housework, you always chose the hardest jobs. Mindy was smart, and let you choose the harder jobs. Imagine a little seven year old mopping the kitchen floor and scrubbing the bathroom willingly.
Thanks for being a good son, for your strength, for working so hard on our kitchen remodeling, for finding a good wife, and for being a good dad. I love you.
Love, Mom
2 comments:
Smarts can get you far in life. Who needs hard work? ;)
Thanks Mom. I'm glad I could help you on your kitchen. I just wish I was more handy so I could have done a better job.
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