“I love you, Mom. See you tomorrow.” I said these words every day as I kissed my mom good-bye. Most girls I know don’t tell their mothers they love them when they say good-bye. But I wasn’t like girls I knew.
As a baby, I was adopted by two loving people who were willing to take me into their home. They became not only my parents, but also my best friends. As I was growing up, I learned that my birth mother was very young when she had me and wasn’t able to care for me. I understood and was thankful. After all, I ended up with two people who loved each other very much, and also loved me. Three years later, they adopted another baby, Lori.
Until I was nine, I didn’t understand why my parents didn’t have any children of their own. Then my father explained that they had tried many times, but they were unsuccessful. Part of the reason was that my mom had diabetes. Since I was young, I didn’t really understand what that meant. As I was growing up, I would see my mom give herself shots and wonder why she was the only one who had to do that. All I saw every day was a strong, beautiful, healthy woman, who spent her life helping people.