A Single Statement
She wrote them all out: 42 reasons that she loved me, a gift for my 42nd birthday. Each reason was handwritten on a separate notecard. “When I tell you drama, you tell me the truth about what you think.” “You are okay with random Target runs.” “You pretend to not know when we do things like this.” Some funny, some sweet – the cards collectively made me cry. The one that most made me pause read “You prove being a single mother is not only possible, but amazing. (You raise/treat/encourage us so well).” She has never referred to me as a
