Mom and Dad, where do I begin?
Do I begin with a thank you for all of the indescribably wonderful things you have done for me? For the money you've given me to help keep me a float when I was struggling? For the compassion and understanding even when I was being worse than Damien himself? The kind words and encouragement said at exactly the right time to help me keep on putting one foot in front of the other? For this amazing gift of life you gave me through God's great plan?
Do I begin with a bottomless apology and deep regret for all I have put you through over the years? The late nights spent worried if I would make it home alive? The hours of worry wondering if I was ok where ever I was? The hurt and shame many of my actions have surely brought you? The torment I know I had to have been as a teenager? The worse torment I was as a young adult out of your span of protection?
Do I begin by singing your many unsung praises? How selfless you are? How giving you are? How gracious your spirits are? What wonderful examples you have been for me? How you've used your broken spirits, broken by me, to lift me up time and time again?
I could begin that way. But I think I'll begin and end this way. With a story you both told to me when I was a little child. A story by my favorite Teacher.