I can’t even remember the first time you were there for me. But I know you were, before anybody else. I got an email tonight that brought tears to my eyes. It was the simplest, but best email ever. It said (paraphrased): “Dear Damon, I love you. Thank you for sharing your life online so I can follow along.”
But really? How much does that suck? Should my mother really have to follow along in my life based on the status updates I post to my social network? Shouldn’t she know everything already?! I feel bad, because I only call once every few weeks. Because you, my mother, have to live my life online, only through the details I provide. This is not fair.
But you know more about me, faster than anybody else in my life. And while I slowly plod along on what I think is the best path…you are there to support me. With infinite love and support.
And I thank you for that. And, someday, I hope to be able to own up on that promise for a mercedes station wagon. Someday, Mom. I hope to get there, but thank you for supporting me along the way even IF I’ve been absolutely terrible about being a halfway decent communicative son.
Life is busy. It always will be.
But it will never. Ever. Be too busy to tell my Mother that I love her.
I love you, Mom. And I’m trying to make you proud.