Thank you for always beginning every letter you ever wrote me, "Dearest Daughter."
Thank you for pinning a clean handkerchief to my dress every day before I went to kindergarten and for the mother-daughter outfits we wore so many years ago.
Thank you for trying so hard so many times to give me curls because you never saw such straight hair and really had no idea what to do with it.
Thank you for sewing the pink and green curtains and dustruffle for my room--and especially the dressing table skirt so I could hide my dirty clothes underneath.
Thank you for all the times you put your arms around me and called me "bubela" -- it was the best, safest feeling in the world.
Thank you for choosing a career that let you be home when Alan and I got home from school.
Thank you for making your own sauce with Daddy's tomatoes, countless pans of parmesan with untold numbers of Daddy's zucchini, and salads with his lettuce, tomatoes, peppers and cucumber.
Thank you for always having the little blue pushke in the kitchen and for bringing me flowers from the garden.
Thank you for my wonderful brother and for being so happy with Daddy and appreciating him the way you did. For living each day with him so fully.
For playing paddleball, shuffleboard and bridge. For dancing with Daddy for so many years and for swimming in Florida every day. For doing crossword puzzles.
Thank you for your "Yiddishe cup" and your sense of humor.
Thank you for all your advice, whether I asked for it or not, and for always prodding me to be better.
Thank you for embracing Mark as a son and Marsha as a daughter and for being such a grandma to Andrew, Audrey, David and Steven.
Thank you for you and Daddy being so independent and for always looking at the world in the most positive way. For saying the things to me that every daughter longs to hear, and for letting me show you how much I love you.
Thank you for always telling me to drive carefully. Thank you for being my mother.
I love you, Mom.