Because of You

There’s a phrase people often use to speak about pain.
Because of you… followed by all the ways someone was hurt, changed, or broken.

But when I think of you, those words become beautiful.

Because of you, my childhood feels like summer air drifting through the windows of an old cabin tucked deep in the woods. It feels like gravel roads, card games at the table, roadside picnics, and evenings that seemed to last forever. Some of my sweetest memories were built in the simplest places.

Because of you, summer itself became a feeling I still spend my life trying to find again.

I remember tubing in the mountain river until the sun began to disappear behind the trees, our skin cold from the water and our hearts completely full. I remember sitting on those old rocks along the riverbank, listening to the steady rush of water as it moved around us like time itself slowing down for a little while. The mountains stood quietly around us, and somehow everything felt safe there.

I remember picking berries with my sisters down the old country road with an old coffee can turned into a bucket, telling us to fill it with blueberries and blackberries for cobbler. The summer air smelled like warm earth and wild berries, and our fingers would turn purple before we ever made it back home. At the time it just felt like another summer afternoon, but now I realize those were the moments that built the foundation of a beautiful life.

And I will never forget the sound of Grandmother’s old Sunbeam mixer humming through the kitchen as we gathered ingredients for your carrot cake, laughter echoing through the cabin, the smell of cinnamon and sugar filling every corner. Somehow those ordinary moments became sacred without any of us even realizing it.

Because of you, I learned that love is often hidden inside the smallest things.

Because of you, I learned that a road trip could heal almost anything.

I still remember driving through the Blue Ridge Parkway with the mountains wrapped in blue haze around us, the windows cracked just enough to let the cool air drift through the car. Somewhere along those winding roads, we sang along to Randy Travis and Patsy Cline like there was nowhere else in the world we needed to be.

I didn’t know it then, but those were some of the happiest moments of my life.

The sound of music filling the car.  Your voice beside mine.
The feeling of being safe, loved, and completely free.

Those memories still live inside me like an old song I never stopped carrying.

Because of you, our family has a love for pancakes that will live on for generations to come. What seemed ordinary at the time became part of the foundation of my life. You taught me that love is found in slow mornings, shared meals, kitchen conversations, and showing up again and again for the people you love.

Because of you, I still chase adventure. I still find peace in long roads, mountain towns, rivers, forests, and discovering places I’ve never seen before. You taught me to explore this beautiful world with wonder instead of fear.

Because of you, I became the mother I am today.

Your love for family shaped me in ways words could never fully explain. Your resilience lives inside me. So does your stubbornness and honestly, I’m grateful for both. Even now, I continue learning from you every single day.

Life has not always been easy, but because of you, I know how to keep going. I know how to keep loving. I know how to keep finding beauty in this world, even after hard seasons.

And if I were given the choice in every lifetime, I would still choose you to be my mom. Every single time.

With love,

 Tanya