Here's a shout out to the woman who I am forever indebted to. She rocks. Everyone that knows her agrees; I know this because they tell me. I am always being told how much people appreciate my mom. How hilarious she is, how helpful she is, how willing, how concerned, how understanding, how strong, how spiritual. I could go on.
I watch my mom, tough as nails, going through things that the average person would cringe simply imagining, but she's not average. She highly exceeds all expectations in all she does.
When dad got sick a couple of years ago, I called her at the hospital to let her know all was well at the house, that I was going to hit the sack, and find out her plan. She let me know she would be home in a few minutes to try and get some sleep. She then told me how grateful she was for me. I remember being shocked. Why would she be grateful for me? She was the one pulling the family, bareback. She was getting the kids to school, making calls to the neighbors, family, and friends--and never leaving my dad's side. I can't imagine what was going on inside her. All I was doing was eating the casseroles that were being provided almost hourly. Being me, I never told her how amazing she is--how it totally floors me sometimes to watch her, how in awe I am. So, now I would like to. Mom, you are amazing. I wish I could say it in a more eloquent way.

(Mom on Christmas 2008)

Good ol' Andrea runs marathons, and drives faster than dad, and shovels the sidewalks, and lays her own slate floor at the same time she is re-rocking the fireplace and remodeling the kitchen, and paints the whole house (and everybody else's), and decorates for weddings, and raises seven (somewhat intolerable) children, and goes to all sporting events, and fulfills her callings in the church, and supports and sustains a husband who overdoes everything he does, and keeps in touch with family, and plans vacations, and deals with legal issues, and still makes homemade bread (her signature), and remembers every one's "favorites," and keeps up the yard, and watches the NCAA tournament like it's the last one, and gardens, (Well into October, I might add--well after frost has hit. Find me someone else that covers their tomatoes for 2 months in Idaho weather.), and volunteers at the schools, and finds good deals shopping (our cereal variety competes with Albertson's), and still looks young...

You think you get it, but you don't. You don't get it because that is only a glimpse. I dare you to find a better mom. Dare you. It's impossible.

Mom, because I'm awful at doing it at the right time, I love you. I'm more than grateful for you everyday-for more reasons than can ever be named. Thanks for being my mom.