The story goes like this: My dad drove my mom through a blizzard on treacherous mountain roads of the Adirondacks so that she could give birth to me at 4:30 a.m. There were complications and the doctor had to save my mom. Or as my dad has always put it, “They had to throw you in the corner and save her.”

My parents never made the story sound too scary or life-altering, but maybe after all these years they think nothing of it. One thing is for sure, it was life-altering.

They have always spared me the finer details of the story of my birth. However, now that I am an adult (I guess), I think about this story and it makes me realize that I made quite the dramatic debut on this planet. It is not lost on me that I have been dramatic many times since then.

Thinking about the story of my birth gets me to present to the fact that my parents are so courageous and inspiring.

To be clear, I had already gotten that memo long ago. My dad was an Army paratrooper, a motorcycle police officer and he used to hunt to put food on the table. My mom was a teacher of many levels and that needs no explanation - children can be challenging (to put it mildly). She spent most of her years as a high school Spanish teacher. My brother and I were in her class (again, see: challenging). We were very different students - I called her “Mom” in school, I think my brother refused to speak. She’s also deeply kind and creative. They are both hilarious, sarcastic, inventive and intelligent.

They made sure my brother and I never missed out on anything. We went to karate classes, which they had to drive us an hour each way to get to. We always had new clothes, food, computers, video games, sports equipment, toys, books, dirt bikes, ATVs, a plethora of Harley-Davidson T-shirts and the comfiest home in the woods that I still miss to this day.

I will absolutely never forget the time when I was 5 years old and our dog Jake had just gone to the Happy Hunting Ground and there was mention of getting a new dog. “We never had a puppy before,” I said.

Then, in my memory what seems like mere days later… we were in some remote part of Chazy, N.Y., getting a puppy. We named him Rufus and he became my best friend.

That is the epitome of my parents. They made absolute magic happen. They still do, every day.

(Full disclosure: I am now tearing up in a coffee shop.)

In college, my brother and I went through a series of unfortunate car-related losses. Probably within a year or less we went through six vehicles. Who kept making new cars appear? Dad.

Who kept us all from totally losing our shit? Mom.

I have a million more:

I wanted to learn to drive standard shift: Dad brought home a Jeep to teach me on.

I wanted to be a My Little Pony for Halloween: Mom sewed up a costume.

I wanted to play soccer and run track: They drove me all around our town and the next.

I wanted to travel: They let me go.

I wanted to be strong and independent: They taught me how.

I wanted to go to college: They made it happen.

I wanted to be an English major: They told me to go for it.

I wanted to take pictures: They keep telling me to take more.

They took us on vacations, they played games with us. I got my head stuck in a chair once and Dad fixed that too.

Long story short-ish: Not for one moment have they ever made me think that I couldn’t be whatever I wanted to be. Along the way, they provided all of the experiences and luxuries they could.

My mom and dad poured all of their knowledge into me and never made me believe that I had to follow the crowd. They never told me to get married or have children. Dad’s preference was for me to join a convent. They taught me to create my life, my way.

They taught me to stand up for what’s right to anyone and everyone. They taught me to be brave and creative. They taught me to provide for myself but also how to care about others.

They are absolutely the most progressive parents I know.

The incredible depth of love and compassion they exhibit is astounding. They have never, ever given up. Even when the deck seemed to be woefully stacked against them, they never gave up on each other or their lives and they have never given up on me and my brother. (Look, I have many times been a huge pain in the ass. You think that was easy to deal with?)

I see that in myself every day. It’s a tenacity to love that I now realize is the truest love I will ever know.

Mom and Dad: I want you to know how grateful I am that you brought me into this world. I want you to know how much I love you and admire you.

Dad, every time I make sauce and meatballs, I think of being a little girl in the early morning watching you make the recipe. You might not know this but I have always thought you were the coolest guy I know -- I still do. And for as long as I can remember I have wanted to be like you and dress like you. I love leather jackets and motorcycle boots because of you. You set an extremely high standard that no man will ever match and I am completely fine with that. You will always be my hero.

Mom, I don’t know how you do it. You have an endless supply of love and I don’t know where you get it from. I have always wanted to be just like you too. Speaking Spanish and creating beautiful things out of thin air. That photo of you in the dress that you made is on my fridge. I know that glint in your eye, because I have the same one. Your spirit is unmatched and I know no one with a bigger heart than yours. You’re right there next to Dad at the top of my hero list.

I think I have always been 50% of each of you, but I feel it more now that I am in my 30s. I am fierce, loving, quick with a joke, determined to succeed, unafraid to fail, unrelentingly honest. That is both of you.

I suppose if I were to boil this all down: “Thank you” will never be enough gratitude for the life that you have given me. It is impossible to repay you, but I hope to high Heaven that I have made you proud. I love you.

This is dedicated to my parents and to all parents. You’re all amazing.