I've been thinking a lot about my parents lately — who they are, who they've made me. In the past I've written about what I've learned from my mom and what I've learned from my dad, and this week, I wrote a short essay on my mom's most special quality, the one I hope to pass down. (I also called her out for her cheesy jokes, which really are on a level all their own.) Here's the essay:
People talk a lot about the mistakes their parents made, all the cycles they hope to break. And my parents aren't perfect, of course, but what I'm really holding on to these days is everything they did right. They set the bar in so many ways, and I can only hope to love like them.