MY MOTHER
Last week as I was looking through my family's chest of photo albums, I happened upon an interesting photograph. As I pulled out the last scrapbook and blew the dust away I noticed a picture forsaken at the bottom of the box, it was of my mother. This picture was of her as a twenty-five-year-old woman.
Her face was not quite as round as mine, but her vibrant, brown hair is of the same hue. For as long as I can recollect her hair had always been curled, but if it were not then it would be softy, wavy as my own. My mother's mouth was slightly open showing a row of perfectly straight teeth. She had the same prominent "smile lines" and the slightest hint of pink in her lips as I do. The most outstanding similarity, nevertheless, was my mother's eyes.
My mother was the most important person in my life. She was not in my whole life, but she was a really big part of it, she was the most influential person who inspired me. My mother was not just another woman, she was extraordinary.
°
How did you find the energy, Mom
To do all the things you did,
To be teacher, nurse and counselor
To me, when I was a kid.
°
How did you do it all, Mom,
Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,
Yet find time to be a playmate,
I just can’t comprehend.
°
I see now it was love, Mom
That made you come whenever I'd call,
Your inexhaustible love, Mom
And I thank you for it all.