My 2nd Mom

My second mother. I love her to death. You never think going through life that you'll ever find someone as good as your own mom--I mean, what really are the chances of it? But then, as a scared, very naive dork coming into college for the first time she found me. I still remember the day--she called to offer me a job. It was fate.

And really, how lucky can you get to love your job and the people you work with? It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing, at least for me. Of course, there's always that one person you don't like, who once gave you a lecture on the differences in usage between jumbo paper clips and regular paper clips. But then...there's my mom.

She always remembers my birthday, and I think I talk to her more than my own mother. She's just...there. I love her to death, and I hate going to a different college because I don't get to see her now. I'm thrilled because I get to see her almost every day this summer, and I bug the crap out of her because I know I won't get to do it in the fall.

Every birthday, holiday, when I left the job, when I've had a bad day--she's always there to give advice, listen, and make the best cake ever. If I could afford it she'd be my personal pastry chef. I dread the end of the summer because I know I won't see her. And apparently she isn't too thrilled with moving to where I live, even though I've sent the movers about five times. Maybe one of these times she'll break down and come, and then I'll have her around all the time.

To my second mother--thank you for everything. I can't tell you how much you mean to me, and I hope this doesn't sound too stalkerish. I love you for being you and who you are, and I hope we never lose touch. At the rate I'm going we won't because I'll be in college for twelve more years but still. Just...thanks. Thanks for being willing to be my second mother.