Woman, Built Tough

To say you are tough would be an understatement.

You are superior to Superman; your kryptonite only makes you come back stronger.

To you, the strongest woman I know, I thank you.

For all the lessons that I didn't know, I needed learning and teaching me to take it and swallow, even when it was bitter.

Thank you for the times that even when I know you wanted me to stand down, to not overwork or exhaust myself, you supported me. You let me fall, so I could learn to get back up but were never so far away. That when the weight was too heavy, you were my spotter, lending a hand when needed.

To the toughest woman I know, thank you for being vulnerable. Telling me the truths you had placed behind curtains until I could understand them fully. That you were humble enough to know that when you were wrong. That no matter how perfect I see you, you show you have flaws.

To the strongest woman I know, I tell you, I see you.

When the loss was crippling to the rest of us, you remained tall. When God had seen fit to take one of your children, you held nothing against him. Nor to the strangers that berated and judged your parenting from only viewing it through a small, lensed camera. When our family was breaking, you did all you could to hang on to the pieces and were wise in knowing when to let go.

To the toughest woman I know, I hear you. Your cheers and screams in the stands. Your words of wisdom as we take on new obstacles in our lives. Your laughter as we joke about your cooking, your choice of cookies over-exercise, your passion for gospel music, and admonishment when we do not do it how you would.

To my strong woman, I know you. I know that you have dreams that you are only now getting to fully realize. I know that you are resilient. That when people say that you are too passionate or unapproachable, you just smile and bless them. I know that you speak your mind, and you are honest to a fault. I know that you get scared only to smash fear with courage. That you are not asking permission or waiting to be seated but seating yourself at the table. That your faith doesn't just move mountains but whole continents if you asked it to.

To my tough mom, I want to be just like you. That I can be half the woman you are. That I can live as boldly and fearlessly as you do. That I can sit confidently at the table just as you do.

To my strong mom, this time I am your number one supporter, your shoulder to cry on, your spotter when the weight gets heavy. For you to know that your daughter prepared with everything that you taught her and know that she’ll still come to you with plenty of questions.

To my mom, I love you.