They say it takes a village to raise a child. That was true in my case.

Each year when Mother’s Day rolls around I don’t celebrate just one strong woman who helped shape me – I celebrate three.

The first one is my mother, Carolyn Ritchie.

She was the one who gave birth to me, and she became a homemaker when I was born.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of her reading to me in bed every night.

We had a fairly substantial book collection that was perfect for winding down after a long day. I tended to be the one who needed unwinding.

My grandma Janet Reedy is my maternal grandmother and the second mom I celebrate.

She was my childhood best friend, confidant, playmate, and crafting companion. She always encourages me, listens to me, and never judges me for being weird.

Trust me, that last one is an accomplishment.

She has read and given me feedback on every book, article, and short story I’ve had published. I’m grateful for every single one.

My third mom is my great aunt, Eunice Shoemaker.

Her tough love approach isn’t for everyone, but she has always done a great job of sticking up for me - especially when I’m the one giving me a tough time.

She’s always the person I go to for realistic, practical advice. It won’t be sugarcoated, but it’ll be the truth. To me, that has always been more important.