Once Mom took me hiking.  It was in Huntington, and I think we just went up the canyon a little bit and climbed a steep hill.  I remember looking down at the Dodge from up high.  Mom has always been up for an occasional adventure with me.  She came with me to Seattle, out in the desert to Great Basin National Park, and even came to Tennessee.

Mom helped me start my journal.  I remember she was a little bit dismayed when I drew a gigantic and sloppy picture of a crane on the folder we kept it in.

Mom trusted me.  I was able to make my own decisions in a large number of things from a pretty young age.  Mom let me screw things up and try new things.  Mom let me be responsible.

Mom put up with my many varied interests.  She let me keep a snake for a little while, even though she hates snakes.  She helped with music lessons, concerts, sports, scouts, church.

Mom taught me to play the piano.  This was the beginning of the great love I have for music.  Every instrument I play and every style I enjoy, every song I write, every concert and CD and band I’ve enjoyed; they all had their origin in Mom sitting down with me and teaching me “Stepping Up”. 

Mom loves my children.  She takes time to be with them, to play with them and read to them.  She finds fun things for them to do.  She shows them she loves them in many thoughtful, small ways.  Each one of them knows their Grandma loves them.

My mom is the greatest, and no one can say otherwise.