To My Children: The Love That Raised You
- Mickey Miller
- Jun 29, 2025
- 7 min read
There’s something I’ve carried in my heart for a long time, and today, I want to share it with you — not because it’s easy, but because you deserve to know the truth, and because my love for you will always be louder than the silence others left behind.
Being your mom has been the greatest purpose of my life. Each one of you — Justin, Kira, Skylar, and Austin — brought light into my world in your own beautiful, wild, and unique way. You were my reason when I had none. You were my strength when I had to stand alone. And above all, you were and always will be my heart walking outside my body.
I want to say something important:
I’m sorry you had to grow up without your fathers in your lives.
I’m sorry for the birthdays, school events, and everyday moments they missed.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you a picture-perfect family — one with both parents showing up for you. But please hear this loud and clear: That was never your fault. It wasn’t mine either.
I never shut the door on your fathers. I never kept you from them. They knew how to reach us — they always knew. But it was their choice not to be involved. And while that choice hurt, I never let it define who you were or who you’d become. You deserved better, and I tried every single day to be enough — enough love, enough presence, enough support, even when I was worn thin.
I know it wasn’t always easy. I know there were questions you kept inside, and pain you didn’t always show. But I saw it. And I carried it with you.
I also saw your strength. I watched you become resilient, compassionate, smart, and determined. I saw you rise up and build yourselves into incredible human beings. And I could not be prouder. You took the pieces you were given and made something powerful — something whole. You are my heroes.
You are the greatest thing I have ever done in this life. You are the living proof that love can raise a family even when the odds aren’t in its favor. And if I could go back and do it all again — even the hard, even the heartbreak — I would, just to be your mom again. Just to have you in my life.
So here it is:
I’m sorry for what you didn’t have, but I will never be sorry for what we shared.
I will never stop loving you. I will never stop cheering for you. And I will never stop being proud — not just of who you are, but of how far you’ve come.
Justin
You were my first, the one who taught me what love like this feels like. I was young and scared, but when I held you, everything changed. You’ve always had this quiet strength, this way of observing the world and thinking deeply. I watched you push forward and grow, even when life wasn’t always kind. You went off to college and made something of yourself — and I can’t explain the pride I felt seeing you graduate, watching you take on opportunities like working for the Detroit Lions, and now basically running an entire company.
I watched you marry your high school sweetheart, Renee — and I know inviting your father was a tough decision. I saw the hesitation, the hope, the worry. And I saw the moment he did show up. I’m so sorry you had to carry that burden — but always remember, it was his actions that brought regret, not yours. You showed up. You built a life he missed out on. And I hope he realized just how incredible the man you’ve become really is.
And I want you to know how much you meant to your grandma — to your G. You were her first grandbaby, and I can still see the way she smiled when you’d run around the bar she worked at, asking her, “Babycakes, do you have any money to play a game?” You were her world. She stepped in and helped me raise you when I was still figuring out how to be a mom. She loved you with every fiber of her being — and that never changed.
Kira
My beautiful daughter, my only girl. You’ve always had fire in your soul — fierce, passionate, and full of heart. I know your father did call at times, but I also know the pain you felt when he was too drunk to follow through. That disappointment shaped so much of your early strength. He had a good heart, but he chose alcohol over showing up, and for that, I am sorry.
But even through the heartache, you built yourself into something radiant. Prom queen. College student. Salon owner. Candle maker. Fiercely independent woman. And then, life surprised you — a man with children. Something you said you never wanted, yet now I see you giving them love and guidance the same way you once received it from Jason, your former stepdad. He loved you and Justin as his own, and I know that memory shaped how you love now.
Your G was never more proud of you than the day she got to buy your prom dress. Her smile lit up the room as she helped you pick it out and did your hair with her own hands. She cried when you left for college — not out of sadness, but pride. She always said you took after her with your love of hair, and it made her heart so full. You were her little reflection — and she never stopped bragging about you.
Skylar
You were my ham — the one who swore at four years old that you’d never leave me and would live with me forever. You had such a big heart, even then. Life wasn’t always kind to you, and I know how deeply you struggled. I saw the scars, both visible and hidden. But you pushed through. You turned pain into purpose. You rose.
You’re now a manager at 42 Degrees — a job you earned through your own perseverance and strength. And after G passed, you didn’t just step up — you stepped into her shoes. You took the house you grew up in and made it a home for all of us again. I know she’s proud of you. I feel her in the walls of that house. I see her in you.
Your father — I truly never thought he would disappear. He made it clear to me that he would never abandon you like his own father had. But something in him changed. The wild side, the Harley life, the partying — it took over, and he drifted. I’m sorry for that pain. I know that part of your dislike for Harleys comes from him. But please know: deep down, he did love you. I just don’t think he knew how to live up to the father he promised he’d be.
And your G… she adored you. One of her favorite things in the world was when you’d come home and ask her, “How was your day, G?” You may not have realized it, but those little moments — those check-ins — lit up her whole world. She loved your talks. She told me how much they meant to her. You made her feel loved, seen, and important. You were her gentle heart. Her listener. Her comfort.
And when you held this family together — you became the glue, just like her.
Austin (Roo)
My baby. You weren’t wild, but as you got older, you grew into your own with a quiet boldness that makes me smile. You faced a lot — health issues, depression, anxiety, social anxiety — and I know how heavy it got sometimes. But music… music became your lifeline. Like me, you found yourself in the rhythm and the lyrics. It helped you climb out of the dark and into your purpose.
DRPT isn’t just a brand — it’s you. Your heart. Your pain. Your power. You’ve poured yourself into it and created something that speaks louder than words. I hope you never stop believing in it — because I believe in you with everything I have.
Your father made a few attempts to reach out, and I’m sorry those moments weren’t what you needed them to be. You deserved so much more consistency, more follow-through, more love. But Roo, you never let those holes define you.
And your G… she did everything she could for you. She wanted you close, and her face would light up every time you brought her chocolate — even when she wasn’t supposed to have it. You were her sweetheart. Her joy. And just like your siblings, you were her whole world.
From Your G — The Wind Beneath Your Wings
There’s one more thing I’ve held in my heart until now. When your G was in the hospital — those final moments we shared — she told me something that I promised I’d share when the time was right.
She told me how much she loved all four of you. That you were her world. That if she could, she would have given up the world just to stay and never leave you. She said she didn’t want to die — because she didn’t want to let go of you. Everything she did revolved around you four. You weren’t just her grandchildren — you were her kids. Her second chance. Her purpose. Her everything.
She made me promise that when the time was right, I would tell you. It’s been three years. And I think now… it’s time.
She also asked me to tell you to listen to Bette Midler’s “Wind Beneath My Wings.”
That’s the song she wanted you to hear.
That’s how she felt about you.
You lifted her. You gave her flight.
And now, she watches over you — still proud. Still loving you. Still yours.
Before I close this letter, I want to tell you something from the deepest part of me:
I know I wasn’t perfect. I made mistakes. I was just as lost as you sometimes — trying to find my own way while raising four lives that mattered more than my own. I didn’t have all the answers. I didn’t always get it right. But I never stopped trying.
Even in my worst moments… it was you that kept me going.
It was you who gave me purpose.
And it’s you who still do — every single day.
You’ve always been my reason.
You always will be…
Until my last breath.
With all my love,
Mom
With this I post the song from your G and my songs to each of you.
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