Last week you turned 67. Last year you got a stem cell transplant. We came to visit you at the hospital. It seems like a million year years ago. It seems like yesterday.
You wore Kerstin's scarf in the hospital. The kids thought the sky scrapers were cool.
I just thought you were cool.
Everybody thought Evan looked adorable. I said we were dressed for the Hampton's.
I am not sure a daughter could be more proud or love a mother more.
You came to the beach after you got home. We were all happy.
I turned 40 in August. You were bald and ballsy and beautiful.
You got through the worst of it.
You were brave before the stem cell transplant process even began. You got your hair cut really short before the chemo took it all.
I was happy to have you join the short hair club.
It could have kicked your ass, brought you down to the point of no return.
But it didn't. You got through it. You made it. You did it.
You survived. You are a fighter.
You are my mom.
I love you.
All my Love Forever,