"I love you, Mom. See you tomorrow." I said these words every day as I kissed my mom goodbye. Most girls I know don't tell their mothers they love them when they say goodbye. But I wasn't like girls I knew.

As a baby, I was adopted by two loving people who were willing to take me into their home. They became not only my parents, but also my best friends. As I was growing up, I learned that my birth mother was very young when she had me and wasn't able to care for me. I understood and was thankful. After all, I ended up with two people who loved each other very much, and also loved me. Three years later, they adopted another baby, Lori.

Until I was nine, I didn't understand why my parents didn't have any children of their own. Then my father explained that they had tried many times, but they were unsuccessful. Part of the reason was that my mom had diabetes. Since I was young, I didn't really understand what that meant. As I was growing up, I would see my mom give herself shots and wonder why she was the only one who had to do that. All I saw every day was a strong, beautiful, healthy woman, who spent her life helping people.

It started with a tiny blister on my mom's toe. This may seem like no big deal, but she ended up losing her toe. Soon she suffered a stroke, and just as she began to recover from that, her leg had to be amputated.

This all took place over three years. The toll this took on my family was unbelievable. My mom was in and out of five hospitals, each doing their best to help her. Sometimes she was home for a few months, but something always seemed to go wrong. When the holidays came, my father, my sister and I spent the day in her hospital room. One Thanksgiving we ate turkey there, and another Christmas we brought all our presents to the hospital so she could see us open them.

When I was thirteen, everything changed.

I tried my hardest to make her feel better, but nothing helped. At home, taking care of my little sister became my job, along with cleaning the house, doing the laundry and cooking the meals. I thought it was unfair, and took it out on my father. I hated the fact that all my friends went out on Friday nights, while I had to stay home and play "Mommy".

But once again, the happy days became sad. On June 15, I stayed home from school to take care of her. Once again she was admitted to the hospital. At first, no one could figure out what was wrong. She remained in intensive care for a week. She began to do better. Then on July 10 she became very sick, and on the eleventh she almost died.

It was even harder for me to go to school while my mom was lying in the hospital. By now, I was sixteen. Luckily she was there for my birthday party, and I'll never forget hugging her as tears fell down both our faces. I'm still thankful for that moment with my mother because it was the happiest I had seen her in four years.

It was getting harder and harder to deal with. Every time she got really sick, she would always come back and do even better.

When the doctors finally realized why she was so sick, they put her on dialysis, a treatment for her kidneys. It seemed to work on August 17, we visited her and she was doing extremely well. When I left, I kissed her and said, "I love you, Mom. See you tomorrow."

As for being adopted, I have no desire to find my real parents. The ones I have had are the only ones I'll ever need. They taught me to be strong and follow my heart. Watching my mom smile through all her pain taught me that I can accomplish anything. I know she's with me through this important time in my life, and she'll guide me in the night direction.

Today, a little over a year since my mom left, I am closer to my father and sister. And along with accepting my family responsibilities, I have gained respect for my mom. I still don't understand how she managed to accomplish all she did.

At 6:30 the next morning we received a call telling us she had passed away during the night.

"Thank you, Mom! I love you and I'll see you tomorrow."