Annie's Mailbox® by Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar

Dear Annie: Please print this for my mother on Mother's Day. I read it in Ann Landers' column many years ago and thought it was perfect. — Nolan in Florida

Dear Nolan: With pleasure. Here it is:

To a one-in-a-million Mom, to you, dear lady, for all the dreams you dreamed for us. Not one of us became the ballerina or vocalist or pianist or doctor or lawyer you were hoping for. The boys didn't become millionaires and the girls didn't learn to speak six languages. Instead we are the children who forgot to say "thank you" when it probably would have meant a lot to you. We are the ones who talked when we should have listened. We are the little tykes who woke you before dawn to serve you the breakfast-in-bed birthday special — burnt toast, weak tea, unscrambled eggs and half-raw bacon, swimming in grease. We gathered around your bed and sang "Happy Birthday, Dear Mommy." You pretended to be thrilled and tried your darndest to eat the mess we had brought to your bed.

Our childhood is over and here are the "thank-yous," many years overdue. Thank you for being there when we needed you. Thanks for being our tower of strength when you needed support yourself. Thank you for believing in us when we had trouble believing in ourselves. Thank you for saying what we needed to hear and for knowing when silence meant more than words. Your wisdom seemed to come from a place that none of us could ever figure out.

Thank you, Mom, for allowing us to dream our own dreams, even though your dreams were more glamorous. And thank you, too, for never letting on when we disappointed you.

Most of all, Mom, thank you for giving us the room we needed to grow and the freedom to learn from our own mistakes. We hope that we can do half as well with our kids. — Your Loving Children

Dear Readers: Here's another message for an oft-neglected demographic group on Mother's Day:

Dear Annie: A lot is said about mothers and grandmothers on Mother's Day.

I would like to pay tribute to stepmothers. I've had a stepmother in my life for 20 years, since my parents divorced and my father remarried. She didn't raise me. I was an adult when she joined our family.

I have learned to love this woman and appreciate her and her generous heart. Not only has she brought love and kindness into my father's life, she has also loved my family and me. She has supported us in every way with her sharing and giving spirit. She has never forgotten us on our birthdays or on holidays, and often the gifts she gives are something she has made with her own hands.

I would like to pay tribute to her today. I love her and want her to know how grateful I am for all she has done for my husband, my children, my father and me. — A Stepdaughter in Grand Rapids

Dear Stepdaughter: Your stepmother sounds wonderful. And so do you. Be sure to show her a copy of this and tell her you wrote it. She will be thrilled.

And finally, dear readers, the poem that always brings a tear to our eyes:

The Time Is Now
If you are ever going to love me,
Love me now, while I can know
The sweet and tender feelings
Which from true affection flow.
Love me now
While I am living,
Do not wait until I'm gone
And then have it chiseled in marble,
Sweet words on ice cold stone.
If you have tender thoughts of me
Please tell me now.
If you wait until I am sleeping
Never to awaken,
There will be death between us
And I won't hear you then.
So, if you love me, even a little bit,
Let me know it while I am living
So I can treasure it.

Annie's Mailbox is written by Kathy Mitchell and Marcy Sugar, longtime editors of the Ann Landers column. Please e-mail your questions to anniesmailbox@comcast.net, or write to: Annie's Mailbox, P.O. Box 118190, Chicago, IL 60611. To find out more about Annie's Mailbox, and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.
COPYRIGHT 2009 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.