R.B 12 M May 6 2026
I haven’t told you this in a while, Mom, but I’ve been thinking about everything you do for me. Usually, I just go through my day without saying much, but I realized that I owe you a real explanation of what I’ve noticed. Since the day I was born, you have been doing work for me that I’m only now starting to fully understand. This essay is my way of putting into words all the things you do—both the tangible things that are easy to point out and the intangible things that happen behind the scenes.
The tangible parts of being a mother are the things that I see with my own eyes every single day. These are the physical tasks that take up your time and energy, and they are the foundation of my life. The most obvious example is the way you handle my nutrition. From the time I was an infant until now, you have been the person responsible for making sure I am fed. This isn’t just about the act of putting a plate in front of me; it involves the constant cycle of grocery shopping, meal planning, and cleaning up afterward. Even when you come home exhausted from your own day, you still prioritize making sure I have a meal. This is a constant, tangible reminder that my health is your top priority.
Beyond just food, I also notice how much effort you put into making sure I have a place to live and the things I need to get through the day. You keep our home organized and make sure I have clean clothes and a quiet spot to get my work done. I see you doing laundry, keeping the house together, and making sure I am prepared for school every morning. When I need new shoes because I’ve outgrown my old ones, or when I need specific supplies for a big project, you are the one who makes sure those items appear. I am fully aware that these things require money, which means you are also putting in long hours at your job to provide for me. I see you leaving for work and returning late, and I understand that your professional hard work is what allows me to have a comfortable life. These are tangible results of your labor that I can touch and use every day.
Another tangible form of support is your physical presence. You show up for my school event, and the moments that matter to me. It takes a lot of effort to coordinate transportation, drive through traffic, and give up your few hours of free time to do those things. Having you there as a witness to my life is a physical sign of support that makes me feel like what I do actually matters.
The Intangible Mental Load While the tangible tasks are easy to point out, the intangible work you do is much more complex. As I get older, I am realizing that my life only runs smoothly because you are constantly working in the background. This mental load is intangible—it doesn’t have a physical shape—but I am starting to recognize how much effort it takes.
For example, there is the intangible work of logistics and scheduling. I don’t just happen to end up at the doctor or the dentist by accident. You are the one who has to make the phone calls, navigate the insurance, and check the calendar to make sure my appointments don’t interfere with school or your work. You keep a running list in your head of my deadlines, my health needs, and my social commitments. If you were to stop doing this intangible planning for even one week, my life would fall apart. You act as a manager for my entire existence, which gives me the freedom to just focus on being a student and a kid.
I have also noticed your situational awareness, which is another intangible skill. You are almost always thinking several steps ahead of me. You anticipate problems before they even happen. You are the one who reminds me to bring a coat when the weather is going to change, or you check in on a homework assignment that you know might be difficult for me. This constant state of thinking ahead is an intangible burden. You are always looking out for my safety and my future, even during the hours when I am not thinking about those things at all.
Intangible Emotional Labor and Patience The most difficult intangible work, however, is the emotional labor. Since I was born, you have had to manage not only your own emotions but mine as well. I know that being a teenager isn’t always easy for the parent. There are times when I am stressed, moody, or just difficult to be around. You are the person who has to absorb that energy and stay patient, even when you might be having a hard day yourself. You provide a stable environment for me to grow up in, which requires a massive amount of internal strength that isn’t always visible to others.
There is also the intangible weight of worry that you carry. I realize now that from the moment you had me, you probably haven’t had a single day where you didn’t worry about my safety, my happiness, or the kind of person I am becoming. You carry the responsibility of raising me to be a good person, and that is a silent, intangible pressure that never goes away. I cannot see the moments you spend wondering if you are making the right decisions for me, but I know those moments happen frequently.
The Intangible Sacrifice of Self Furthermore, there is the intangible sacrifice of your own time and identity. Before I was born, you had your own schedule, your own hobbies, and your own priorities. For the last 12 years, you have consistently put my needs ahead of your own. You have sacrificed your sleep, your personal interests, and your own comfort to ensure that I had every opportunity possible. You don’t walk around complaining about these sacrifices, which makes them intangible to most people, but I want you to know that I see them and I value them.
The reason I am writing all of this down is that I want you to know your effort is working. Because of the tangible and intangible things you do, I feel safe. This sense of security allows me to focus on my future and my education without being weighed down by problems.
By watching you manage our home, work your job, and take care of me, I am learning what it means to be a responsible and reliable person. You are modeling how to handle stress and how to show up for the people you love. These are the most important lessons I will ever learn, and they aren’t coming from a textbook—they are coming from watching you every day.
FI know I don’t say thank you enough, and I know I can be difficult sometimes. But please know that I am paying attention to everything you do. I am incredibly grateful that you are my mom, and I hope this essay shows you how much I truly appreciate the life you have provided for me.
Love, Rab