Letters | From Stacy, with love

Dear Mom,

I know I drove you crazy when:

I doodled off the pages of my coloring book and right up my bedroom walls.

I hid from you in the department store clothing racks while you yelled my name.

I did aerobatic back-flips off our swing-set while you waved a finger at me from the window.

I stayed out in a snowstorm until 3 a.m., singing and dancing with my best friend while you canvassed the neighborhood for us.

I . . . well, maybe I shouldn't even mention skydiving!

I know I made you proud when:

After three years of almost complete silence, I started speaking in full sentences.

I had a starring role in the first-grade play, even though I forgot my lines.

I sang and danced in the front of movie theaters as an "opening act."

I brought home great report cards, with the occasional note about getting kicked out of class.

You know you drove me crazy when:

You made me eat vegetables and yelled at me when I passed them under the table to the dog.

You cut my bangs unevenly.

You eavesdropped on my conversations with my boyfriends.

You refused to let me go on spring break to Cancun, and I missed out on seven nights of wild foam parties and body shots of tequila.

You might not know, but you made me proud when:

You treated everyone with kindness and compassion.

You valued other cultures.

You made me laugh every day.

You cried over the cheesiest television shows.

You blasted loud music and danced around the house.

You believed in me.

You massaged my feet when I was sick and brought me toast cut in triangles.

You made me wonder.

You bought two car seats for your car when your grandsons were born.

You cultivated a beautiful marriage.

You spread love, every day of your life, simply by being you.

Happy Mother's Day.

Stacy Heenan, Philadelphia