My parents met my boyfriend’s parents for the first time a few months ago. After dinner, his mom texted me, “You definitely got the gift of gab from your mom!”

And I thought, oh no.

I clearly didn’t get my genes from my parents, but they did give me a lot.

Family - for a very basic start. They loved this little girl that they saw pictures of at a rest stop in upstate New York and then met in a New York City airport. Enough that they let her into their world for a whole lifetime.

Jesus - It amazes me when I actually take the time to stop and think that of all the kids that were adopted and all of the families, I ended up in this one. One that went to church and encouraged me to follow God and set me up to figure out what it looks like to live life with Him.

Personality - which is somewhat scary, but also somewhat awesome. My mom cares about everyone. She tells me all the time that I’m too busy and I tell her this story about a pot and a kettle. She is instantly welcoming in any situation and so unbelievably good with names and faces that she knew every kid for 20 years that walked through her school doors - and their parents. My dad is brilliant, logical and always figuring out something in his head. He studies hard and works hard for as long as it takes to do something right. They showed me what it meant to love people and work for what I wanted.

Support - I’m still not 100% sure how much either of my parents really know or understand about figure skating, basketball or volleyball, but they drove hours to and from (and sometimes to and from again for my forgotten skates) games and competitions. They sat through endless high school plays and choir concerts - which I’m beginning to appreciate more and more now that I go to a lot of those myself.

Not to mention a host of other more tangible things like shelter and food and tamogatchi electronic pets and light up sneakers and all of the other things that kids from the 90’s wanted.

Every year on this day, they’ve celebrated me and I think this might be the first year that I realized (yes, I’m a bit slow) that truly, I should be celebrating them.