I want you to know....

As far back as I can remember, my father has always been standing next to me- encouraging me. Never behind me pushing, never in front of, pulling. But by my side, holding my hand.

I still remember learning to spell "engineer" because that was what my dad did, and that's what I wanted to do. I don't remember a time when I didn't know what college was, or that I was going there. I performed the Purdue fight song when I was 5 to all my relatives. From the day I was born my dad began to put away a little money from each paycheck expressly for the purpose of widening my horizons by one day sending me to college.

I went through all the phases: I want to be an engineer (I had no clue what they did, but Dad got to work in a tall shiny building), I want to be a teacher, I want to be a mom, I want to be a therapist, I want to be a designer, an architect, a nurse, a musician.

If I had a scholastic triumph the first thing I would always do is call my Dad. (After dancing a jig around the room with my mom!) Sometimes I'd try to trick him, and I'd leave a sobby message on his answering machine: "Dad **sob** I just had to call you. **sniff** It's about my math test....**pause** I gotta go! **sob**" Of course he always saw through it, but he'd play along and call being questioningly sympathetic: Then I would shout "I did it! I understood it!!!! I got an A!"

It could be safely assumed that I passed chemistry for two reasons: My father came home and dredged his memory for his chemistry knowledge and spent his free time explaining to me again what such-and-such a reaction was. The second reason would be- I didn't want to disappoint him. I wanted to be good at it to make him happy. In fact, when I happened upon the subject biology I was thrilled- for this reason: I had found something scientific that I loved and was good at. My dad prized the sciences, so I wanted to.

Then there was my mom. It would be very safe to say that I never appreciated my mother the way I did my father. I loved her. No question. But I didn't admire her or search for her approbation the same way I did with my father. The reason for this is very simple, and very sinful.

I was always around her. She was always there, she was always pushing me forward, demanding my best, forcing me to learn. She had to. She was my teacher. So while Dad got to hear about the triumphs, about my successes and my dreams, my poor mother was placed in the thankless position of explaining parallelograms again and again. Of dealing with my severe mood swings that came when switching subjects from English to math. Of hugging me when I was crying over geometry proofs, and making me be quiet when all I wanted to do was talk about the glories of Shakespeare.

She was always there.

My parents homeschooled me. It was my mother's full time job.

My mother is a Civil Engineer just like my father. She was the first woman to graduate from Purdue's Civil Engineering Contruction Management major. She managed a floor full of men at Caterpillar, and she didn't even enjoy engineering. She wanted to be a lawyer. Being a woman in a man's world is a very lucrative position. She grew to love her job. She was very good at it.

But when I was born- she stopped. She stayed home.

She went from managing several hundred employees to telling me to pick up my socks for the 14th time. She cooked, cleaned, and laundered. She was a mom. But she was also a teacher. She got me up every morning. She made me do the things I hated- I was a horrible student. She taught me how to read, do math, dissect flowers, paint pictures, study history, think logically and be involved in our culture. She did my laundry, dressed me, scolded me, encouraged me, disciplined me, and rewarded me.

I never thanked her. I did worse.

I complained to her.

"Why can't I be like everyone else? Why do I have to be homeschooled? Why are you doing this? Why can't I go to school? You just want to make me miserable!!!"

My parents are amazing.

My mother gave up what many people only dream of, to make my future possible. She taught me more than is ever contained in text books. She told me that character doesn't always win in the end- if you call this life "the end." She taught me to look to eternity. She taught me to question everything I am taught and to seek out true knowledge. She introduced me to the importance of logic and arguing intellectually. She loved history and politics- she taught me both and passed on her passion. My mother taught me K-12th grade. I was accepted into a college ranked 3rd in the nation in my major. That's not due to me. That's my mom.

My father sacrificed in the business world to spend time with me. He turned down promotions because they would suck time from his family. He moved us to Lafayette for the exact same reason- his family. He came home early and read to us- wonderful books. He played with us, and laughed at our (not-so-funny) jokes. But most importantly he taught me to look at the stars. "If you want it- you can get it." He encouraged me to explore, to push myself, to expand my world. My dad believed that I could do anything. Because he believed it- I did.

I'm living the life I have now, because of my parents. My future has the flexibility and potential it has because of them. As I look back now I see what they gave up for me, and it makes this opportunity so much richer, and more important. It gives me a passion for what I do, a desire to do it well, and an incredible feeling of unworthiness.

I want you to know what I see now, I want you to know the gratitude and love I should have felt 15 years ago.

My parents are my best friends. They are my mentors, my teachers, my encouragers, councellors, and best cheerleaders.

There are only a few words to describe what I'm feeling. They're not very big, and they've been used so much that they've lost a lot of their meaning, but:

Thank you.

I love you.