My mama. Christmas queen, lover of all things whimsical, gardener, giggler, dancing fiend. She taught me how to buy Clearance at Target and how to listen to a friend in need, how to be kind but strong, how to execute a great party, how to balance a checkbook. Often times when I was little I would awake to the sound of her laughing on the phone with my grandma in the morning. I’ve watched her wrestle with hard things and never give up. I’ve watched her handle difficult people with grace. Blackbelt, movie lover, professional QVU shopper, my first biggest fan, my forever friend. Once we decided to forgo dinner just to eat ice cream instead. Once (more than once) we got lost on our way home from Michael’s by taking backroads. Once, she held my hand all the way to Maryland from New York with all of my belongs around me, no plan in sight but to heal. Martini sipper, easy laugher, dog lover, VW beetle driver, big glasses wearer. She took me to see my first broadway show, she took me to the doctors, her intuition knowing something was wrong, she took me to the Ballet every Christmas. This Thanksgiving she told John that though he may love me, she loves me more and always will until the day she dies so he should just get over it. Well Mom, How lucky am I. What an embarrassment of riches you bring me to be loved by you so fully. I’m really, really happy you were born. I Love you.