January 2 is yours, Mom.

You are always there to love me unconditionally.

For the thousand times that I hurt you because of the things that I do and yet you still manage to tell me, "please stop, you might hurt yourself, I don't want that because I love you."

For the endless reminders you give me and I sometimes think are useless but always end up finding out that they are all true.

For always praying for me and assuring me that everything will eventually fall into place.

For teaching me the value of always choosing to do what is right and and standing by my principles.

For showing us that it is not in what you do but in how well you do what you are supposed to do. That no matter how small the task, if we just try our best to do it perfectly, that will spell a lot of difference already.

For accepting me. I know you are hurting somehow but because you love me, you accept me. You want me to be happy and you know that if you accept me, that will mean a lot to me.

For loving those I love. For accepting my friends and the people I let into my life.

I know you feel that you have not done enough and that there is more that you could have done, but Mom, look at us, your family. We are here, alive and happy. And it is mainly because of you.

Thank you for preparing my food, keeping my documents for me, helping me in whatever way you can. For gassing up my car sometimes, paying for my toll, treating me for breakfast, lunch or dinner. For our one-on-one talks when I drive you to and from work. For the secrets that you share with me about your work and whatnot.

Thanks for always answering all my calls and talking to me when I call you because I feel bad about something at work or school or whatever.

Thank you for understanding and loving me and being patient with me, for never giving up on me. Thank you that at my worst, you loved me.

I see and feel God's love in you.

January 2 is yours, Mom, thank you.