When I was 5, I fell out of an oak tree and scraped up my leg. I was only bleeding a little bit, but to a 5-year-old, it seemed as if I were bleeding to death.

Thanks, Mom, for cleaning my wounds.

When I was about 6, I choked on a potato chip. I think I was watching a TV commercial about people taking pain pills.

Well, I knew I wouldn't be able to open one of my mom's bottles of Tylenol or Advil, so I proceeded to experiment with a potato chip and a cup of water.

I put the chip on the back of my tongue, and the next thing I remember was screaming.

The doctors said the chip nearly cut my throat. Gushing blood. Eyes filled with tears.

Thanks, Mom, for taking care of me.

I started playing sports that I was about 8. Prior to that, I wanted to be a cheerleader. Mom said I needed to participate in something that would produce a scholarship. At the time, cheerleading scholarships were unheard of.

So I played softball and basketball and ran track.

It wasn't until years later when I found out just how bad I really was in basketball.

Thanks, Mom, for supporting me anyway. And thanks, Mom, for foreshadowing what was to come in my athletic career.

So I'm not a cheerleader, but I have been blessed with a scholarship to play Division I softball.

Then came junior high. All of my friends were dating. You remember those dates at the skating rink on Friday nights?

Parents would drop their pre-teens off at 7:30 p.m. and pick them up at 11.

Well, Mom wouldn't let me date. Boys weren't even allowed to call the house. There were times when I sneaked on the phone, but that's a different story.

Mom always told me that I needed to focus on my studies and forget about boys because there would be plenty of time for them later.

So one day during 6th period, a boy passed me a note asking me out. Remembering what Mom said, I told Darryl that I couldn't date him because I needed to focus on school. (I know you think I'm a dork.)

The note was taken up, and I was called to the principal's office for the first time in life.

The principal called my mom, and I sat in fear of what was to come.

I finally found out that the principal wanted to praise me and my mom for how mature I was.

Thanks, Mom, for teaching me to focus.

I started writing for my high school newspaper. I'd write articles, and Mom would read them. When I didn't feel I did my best, Mom still kept reading.

Thanks, Mom, for encouraging me.

Whether she sees it or not, my mom has touched me in more ways than I can count. We hold family dinners at our house during holidays, and guess who helps to make sure everything is organized? She cooks and cleans and still finds a way to maintain her angelic appearance.

Thanks, Mom, for teaching me to balance tasks.

Two years ago, Mom lost the love of her life. Hopeless and helpless she felt, and many days still feels. Somehow she knows just what to say to me to remind me that Daddy is looking down smiling. Somehow she finds the strength to go on day by day during those trying times. She's a rock for me and my brother.

Thanks, Mom, for being strong and showing us how to take one day at a time.

Thanks, Mom, for not only being my mom, but also my best friend.

Amber Miles is a senior journalism major from Dallas and serves as editor for The Tech Talk. E-mail comments to anmiles24@hotmail.com.