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For the most part, I embrace my age and the stages that I am approaching in my life. I typically do not look back and feel sad, but only because I am so excited about what lies ahead. Today, however, I feel sad. I just watched some video from Facebook and Youtube from BBPC. For those of you who do not know, I went to overnight camp for years in Starlight, PA. It was not the fanciest camp in the world, but it is still to this day, my favorite place on earth. I would do anything to go back! The problem is, however, it wouldn’t be the same without everyone there. It is a new generation of people now who, for the most part, I do not even know. There was something about camp that allowed you to escape to a fantasy world of cherished moments, growth and friendship. Even those you hated, you loved. Those you loved were your family and your family was compiled of hundreds. It was the best.

Maybe there’s a reunion weekend that I can attend? Erika? Jessica? Jamie? Anyone feel like I do? Just watch some video and then you’ll see what I mean.

It meant everything to me.

I was blessed with the greatest mother of all time. Her name is Sherry Rebecca Selzer Bogart. She loves her family, her students, her friends, her dog and her memories.

We have always had the most incredible relationship. Perhaps it is because I am the baby, or maybe it’s because we understand each other more than anyone else can even pretend to…but regardless of the reason, the truth of the matter is that I am who I am because she is my mom.

When my heart was broken in middle school, she sang, “I am woman, hear me roar,” until it finally seeped into my head. She taught me how to take care of myself as she learned how to take care of herself. She is the woman that I admire. Independent, strong, gorgeous and bursting with love that perhaps too few fortunate souls appreciate to the extent that they should.

She has a love for style. She loves the finer things in life and always wanted her girls to have it all. Prom dresses from Saks. “Hey, you get what you pay for.” And she was right…I would still wear it today. She traded in her weekends so that we could have “it all.” She always wished that she could have spoil us rotten. Little does she know that I feel more spoiled than anyone I know.

She appreciates simple things too…like heated blankets, maj jong, our road trips, laying on Susan’s couch, our lunches at Panera, Andy Griffith (shhh:), neat handwriting, sunlight, big watches, Wildfire, InStyle, playing Hearts online, Passaic, the Nathans, and clean things.

My mom and I speak every day. Sometimes this is not enough for me.

I value her opinion more than anyone else that I know.

She once told me to get married around the age of 35; she wanted me to know exactly who I was before beginning a life with someone else. When I told her that I was in love and ready, she hugged me and started planning.

She admits when she is wrong and insists that I learn from her mistakes.

She takes pride in her work and it shows. My mom is the finest teacher that the Beachwood district has on board. I guarantee it.

She loves Bruce Springsteen, Simon and Garfunkel and Beyonce. She has a tough exterior with an innocent heart. Her intentions are always from the heart. Always.

She loves her children more than we even know. We are her heart and soul, pride and joy, job beyond well done.

I respect my mom. I worry about her, too. She is a Jersey girl who found her way to Cleveland through love. Hopefully the same love will convince her to move just six more hours west a few years from now.

Every day I feel myself turning into my mom just a little more. I roll my eyes after I point out a stain on Jason’s shirt, but smile as I realize that it is only because I know he would want to know about it.

I am so lucky to have my mom in my life. I realize that and tell her nearly daily. She is my best friend, my sounding board, my inspiration, my rock…

She is my mom and I will never take her for granted.

This was one of the best weekends of my life. I said the same thing last weekend…and the weekend before.

This weekend I returned to Beachwood for a bridal shower thrown for me by my mother’s closest friends. What a gift they gave me. It was amazing to open the gorgeous gifts and delightful to lunch over a quaint meal among ladies, but it was most incredible to be surrounded by family and friends from east and west, old and new. I loved every second of it.

I heard my friend Laura once say that getting married is humbling. She was so right. The gifts people buy, the miles people travel, the poems that they write, the planning that is required…all for our family. NY, CT, IL, PA, etc. For a shower! My friends outdid themselves, even though we’re new to this wedding “stuff.” I am so lucky. And Jason?  He felt more like family this weekend than he ever has. He felt like he belonged to more than just me. I loved this most.

Twice recently I’ve doubted living in Chicago. I miss my family, I tell Jason. We will revisit our future as it unfolds, but know for sure that family is most important. My mother raised her three offspring to believe that you drive to NJ for Thanksgiving, drive to CT for Passover and cross Canadian borders when cousins bat-mitzvah. I realize now the effort it takes to get from Ohio to these simchas. Jason and I will be no different than my parents were. It’s what you do - yes because you want to, but more because you cannot imagine missing it.

I am so happy.

If I am as happy in 41 days as I was this past weekend, I will be the happiest bride ever.