Condors Blogs

I’m sure you thought “Why so many boys? All I see are trucks and toys. I wish there were dolls, not all these Nerf balls.” I would bet there were many times you wished you could have exchanged us for girls, but we’re glad you didn’t. There were times we made you lose your hair, mind and patience but you always forgave us. You helped us all through so much pain, yet never gave us any.

You drove us from place to place, usually with a smile on your face. You gave up your social life to raise us right, the end of sports never in sight. From baseball to soccer, football to hockey, lacrosse to basketball, it must have seemed like we played them all. From arena to field you drove, and never too tired to put food on the stove. At times we were brats, you probably wished you would have settled for cats, but instead you had us and never put up a fuss.

Floor hockey in the dining room, with metal spoon in hand, and instead of being mad, shoot the puck was your demand. You’d make your little hustle hands and faces, in the stands or just weird places. You’d cheer us on from where ever you were at, if we were on the ice or standing at the bat. You made the sacrifice to watch us all play; no matter the score you would always stay.

After a bad game you weren’t afraid to let me know, but lucky for me you knew when to let it go. You watched helplessly as I gave up the game winning run, heartbroken, you still tried to make the ride home fun. It must have been tough sitting through game after game, especially when one of us was taking all the blame. Bobby Knight would scream and yell, into your arms is where we fell. A hug and a kiss and it will all be okay, I’ll talk to him later is what you’d say.

You helped us through our homework and heartaches, knowing there would be more mistakes. You’ve been there through our agony and our joy, our ups and downs, broken windows and broken dreams. You taught us to be respectful and polite, and reminded us to be tough. You taught us the meaning of sacrifice and hard work. You taught us by example and loved us no matter what. You were our teacher and our friend. You always had an ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on. You are the rock upon which we grew and we would be no where without you.

So no matter what we call you, Annmarie, Ann or just plain old mom, all three of us thank you and love you. I know you made me the person most don’t get to see, but when they do, they know it came from you.

Happy Birthday Mom,

Your Youngest Son

More Random Thoughts: I went to Death Valley and everyone was alive…my shirt says Famous but I’m not…don’t pet stores know pets don’t shop…Sienna Miller could date me…if thin mints want to keep their name, they should go on a diet…What’s secret sauce called to those who make it…Someone told me I should eat fish everyday because it’s good for you, I already do they just happen to be Swedish…Koko’s favorite activity is relaxing…Some peoples cars roll on DUB’s mine rolls on dimes…I don’t understand people with a weight problem, I’m patient…I hope you’re still proud mom, I appreciate how ya raised me and all the extra love that ya gave me.

#55 Kevin Truelson