The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.

A Mom's Tribute To Her Kids

by Dessa Rodeffer, Publisher/Owner

15 May 2002

I received this email and felt it was just too good not to share with our kids:

Why I Always Loved You Best!

DEAR FIRST BORN:

I've always loved you best because you were our first miracle. You were the genesis of a marriage and the fulfillment of young love. You sustained us through the hamburger years, the first apartment (furnished in Early Poverty.), our first mode of transportation (1955 Feet) and the 12 Ðinch TV we paid on for thirty-six months. You were new and had unused grandparents and enough clothes for a set of triplets. You were the original model for a mom and dad who were trying to work the bugs out. You got the strained lamb, the open safety pins and three-hour naps. You were the beginning.

DEAR MIDDLE CHILD:

I've always loved you best because you drew a tough spot in the family and it made you stronger for it. You cried less, had more patience, wore faded hand-me-downs and never in your life did anything first. But it only made you more special. You were the one we relaxed with and realized a dog could kiss you and you wouldn't get sick. You could cross a street by your self long before you were old enough to get married. And you helped us understand the world wouldn't collapse if you went to bed with dirty feet.

You were the child of our busy, ambitious years. Without you we never could have survived the job changes and the tedium and routine that is marriage.

TO THE BABY:

I've always loved you best because while endings are generally sad, you are such a joy. You readily accepted the milk-stained bibs, the lower bunk, the cracked baseball bat, the baby book that had nothing written in it except a recipe for graham-cracker piecrust that someone had jammed between the pages. You are the one we held onto so tightly. You are the link with our past, a reason for tomorrow. You quicken our steps, square our shoulders, restore vision and gave us a sense of humor that security, maturity and durability can't provide.

When your hairline takes on the shape of Lake Erie and your own children tower over you, you will still be our baby.

LOVE MOM