To my readers: This has been inspired by your lovely reviews, they made me want to give you another chapter, since I've been dreadful at posting. I wrote this last weekend, in honor of my friend's mom who passed away. We were very close, and I miss her so much. It's not much, which is why I didn't post it immediately, but I feel that it needs to be said. This was based HUGELY off of her personality. Here's to you Susan. You were a great mom to your kids, I love you & miss you so much. You will be dearly missed.

She might act a little paranoid sometimes, but I love my mom. She's just a kick-butt mom who loves her kids. Dad calls her his "Ninja Chick," (I try to keep any connotations that title may have out of my head).

My mom's probably the strongest person I know. Even when she was in a torture cell in Somalia (Yes, they told us), she never stopped fighting. My mom isn't one to give up easily, and she never goes down without a fight. When I was in Hebrew School, we learned about something called an, "Eshet Chayil." It means "woman of valor." That's what my mom is. A woman of valor.

Although she never thought she'd start her own family, once I was born, her children became her everything. If anything happened at school that she objected to, where was my mother? In the Principal's office, telling her how she doesn't know how to do her job and that a chimpanzee could run it better. When it comes to her kids, there is not a length on earth she would not go to.

I feel so lucky to be so close to my mom. If I ever need help with my homework, or have a party to go to that dad doesn't want me to, or have any 'personal' questions, she's always there to help her little girl. As much as I hate it when she calls me that, it's true. I'll always be her little girl.

My mom likes to have fun. She wants to give us everything she was denied growing up. We're always going on cool vacations together and exploring the world around us. It's a lot of fun spending time with her in places other than DC. She's even taken me and some of my friends to a few concerts, once even driving us all the way to Atlantic City so I could see my favorite band.

There was this one time, when I was 8 or 9, when Tali and I found a puppy in the snow. Mom insisted we take it inside, and we wrapped the puppy in blankets and fed her and let her fall asleep next to our fireplace. It was a Great Dane puppy, and it was going to get HUGE. But none of us cared at the time. We just wanted to help this poor, lonely puppy. Mom liked the little pup so much, she convinced dad to keep her. We named her Astro, because she was all black (and I was in my astronomy-obsession phase). Actually, mom started to love her so much that she asked dad to get another one. Though a large fight ensued, Mom eventually won. There's really no argument dad ever wins without mom letting him. So, we got another Great Dane. Mom let Tali name her, and she was named Kumo, because my five year old sister could only ask the puppy to 'come here' by saying 'kumo.'

Once, she told us about this case she and my dad were working. Lance Corporal Liza Hunt and Petty Officer Mark Barring had been married for twenty years. They had three kids, just like our family. Corporal Hunt died of Cancer when her youngest child was 15, and Petty Officer Barring had just been murdered. It broke her heart that those kids were so alone. She pulled me, Tali, and AJ into her arms, and we all fell asleep on the couch together listening to her whispers of, "Never forget how much Ima loves you."

So yea, does my mom embarrass me when I'm with my friends? Of course. Does she help my dad do background checks on all my dates? Absolutely. Does my mom love me? Without a doubt. Unconditionally. And nothing can ever take that away from us.

Dear Susan, I hope this did you justice, and I hope it makes you proud.