I was my mom's only child. From my earliest memories, she was a devoted mommy to me who sang me lullabies, read countless stories, prayed with me and tucked me in at night.

When I was about 3 or 4, she worked at a Montessori preschool in order to afford the cost to send me there. Before that, I was at a preschool a few mornings a week where I complained that all they did was play dress up- I actually wanted to learn things! So she listened and respected what I voiced- even at my young age- and found a way for me to attend a better preschool by working there herself. (I still remember what my classroom looked like!)

But she also taught me much at home during that time- years before home schooling was even a true option. She drew dots onto paper and had me trace them to make letters and numbers and would sit with me while I sounded out words in my Dr. Seuss books. Later, when I was about seven and expressed interest in learning Spanish, she took it upon herself to find every resource from the library, hand wrote out worksheets with drawings, and spoke words into a tape recorder. I loved learning that way and she made me feel special knowing she put so much effort into my interest. No wonder I later home schooled my own children!

Mostly, what I remember is feeling like she loved me no matter what. From the time I breathed my first breath until the time she breathed her last, I always knew she loved me unconditionally and forever.

In the last decade of her life, her health began to slowly decline. But when I would be visiting with her, she'd always say, "You're my favorite daughter". There was that slight humor in her voice knowing I was her "only" and yet at the same time, complete love and devotion. So I'd always answer, "You're my favorite mom."

And she was.