Yesterday was my mom's birthday. I feel kind of bad because I didn't write anything for her. I actually sat in front of my computer for hours trying to come up with something, but nothing was happening. I kept writing stuff and then deleting it.

What do you write about Esme?

My mom and I have had a relationship filled with ups and downs.

During my pre-teen years I sort of relished that I was daddy's favorite (yes, I realize how incredible fucked up that is) and sort of lorded it over her.

I remember one night after dinner we were having ice cream sundaes. I had opened up a brand new can of whipped cream and was aiming it at the top of my sundae. There must have been a clog or something because this shit shot all over the place and got my mom right in the face.

She was furious.

I was trying not to laugh and she could tell, so she yells, "Choong (my dad's nickname), she did that on purpose."

Dad was standing there in semi-shock, also trying not to convulse from holding in his laughter, and he says to her, "No, that couldn't have been on purpose. It went everywhere. She wasn't aiming it at you."

I just kept saying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . " but the tears in my eyes from the suppressed laughter were obvious.

Mom actually got up from her chair and lunged at me. I took off for my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I was kind of in shock, but laughing my ass off because really - it was fucking funny!

Then later on in high school, mom accused me of being a slut.

Not exactly in those words, what she said was, "I always talked about your aunt's daughters, never did I think MY DAUGHTER would turn out to be like one of them."

Mom has a penchant for the dramatic.

I don't really rember when my mom and I chilled out with each other.

But, I think it had a lot to do with me going away to college.

I was away from home so we weren't in each other's space as much and that whole bizarre little Electra Complex that I had developed was finally, FINALLY whithering away.

Anway, I left for school, got married and started my own family.

Then I moved out of state.

Which, was fantastic as it really allowed me to create a life for myself that wasn't hindered by someone else's expectations of me.

Then, then I got the call that no child should ever get.

It was mom on the phone barely whispering out, "I have breast cancer."

I don't really remember what I was thinking about right before she said it. Maybe something about work or my day.

I do remember that J and I were driving home from somewhere because I was looking out the windshield watching the snow fall and everthing started moving at super slow-mo.

Mom's cancer was caught super, super early. So early that they did a lumpectomy (sort of, as the cancer was still in the early stages and there really wasn't much of a lump) and a few months of radiation. No chemo.

Her cancer was caught by a routine mammogram.

That mammogram saved her life.

And, I will be eternally grateful for the fact that mom has always been a believer in preventive medicine.

We didn't come close to losing her, but for the first time the reality of losing her was there and it scared me.

So, even though she drives me crazy still and sometimes when we talk on the phone I roll my eyes so much I practically sprain my eyeballs - I'm glad she's still around to drive me crazy.

I wouldn't trade her for anyone.

I love you, mom.