To Linda Cochrun — my mother, my origin, my hardest lesson, and my deepest love.

You and I have walked through storms — some fair, some not. You hurt me in ways I may never forget, but you also gave me life, and for that, I still carry love in my heart.

This isn’t about what you deserve; it’s about who I am. And who I am still remembers the woman who fought her own battles, even when she was wrong, and the one who taught me how to survive mine.

So, happy birthday, Mom. I hope somewhere in all this, you still hear me roar — not in anger, but in forgiveness.