Thank you for getting up every morning at some ungodly hour and making the two-hour commute to work. And for working your tail off when you get there. You are the bread winner, and for that I am grateful.
After all of these years, thank you for still kissing me goodbye and telling me “I love you” before you leave the bedroom, even though I am still groggy with sleep. I carry your kiss and your words with me throughout day.
Thank you for being generous with your money. I know that you would tell me that it’s “our” money, but not everyone would see it that way.
Thank you for planning things that I never would. Like vacations and trips and weekends away. It’s not that I don’t ever want to go away, it’s that my anxiety makes me curl into a tiny ball sometimes and this makes it hard to make plans.
Thank you for driving. I feel bad that I have such a poor sense of direction and that driving just isn’t my thing. You are always a good sport and take the wheel without complaint.
Thanks for making me feel like the greatest writer in the world. And the greatest mother in the world. And the greatest partner in the world. And the greatest lesbian in the world. And the greatest lover in the world.
Thank you for pointing out that you still get goosebumps when I kiss you and letting me feel the raised bumps on your arm for proof.
Thanks for letting me kiss you and paw you. Sometimes I just can’t control myself, but then you already know this.
Thank you for telling me that everything that I do is cute, even those weird compulsive things. And for calling me “baby.” I really like that.
Thank you for putting up with my quirky comedies. Even that one where the dog died in the first few minutes.
Thank you for loving me, especially when I’m not doing a very good job of loving myself.
Thank you for making me laugh every single day. I always tell you to control yourself and to get a grip, but I secretly love when you make me giggle. (Remember, don’t tell anyone that I giggle.)
Thank you for being patient with me. I know that I’m not perfect. In fact, I know that I am far from being perfect. I am difficult and moody and grumpy, but you love me anyway like I am better than I really am — a rose without thorns. Or maybe you really do like my wrinkles and gray hair and crooked nose and the funny way that I say banana.
Thank you for being patient, loving, forgiving, understanding. Thank you for always trying.
You always thank me for finding you.
Today, I am thanking you for finding me — a gem, or so you say, buried underneath a flannel shirt and a baseball cap.