Descriptive Essay About Mother

​Your mom is your best friend, sister, and your whole life. She helps you be successful and always wants what’s best for you and your future. Mothers choose to go through tough times and rocky roads just to make sure that her off sprigs are in a good shape and are in excellent health. Mothers would kill to see their kids in the best condition. If it means that they should give up on them, they would! If your mother is around be appreciated for what you have and thank god that she is

In 1974, my mother, and her lower class family, emigrated from Canada to New City, New York. They moved frequently back and forth between various American and Canadian cities due to my grandfather’s lack of finding long-term employment; he has a book filled with pages upon pages of business cards and papers recording his numerous previous employers. Eventually, my grandfather found a steady job in print, working for the New York Times in 1985, my grandmother opened her own bookstore for a brief period in time, and my mother and her siblings all attended and graduated from four-year colleges. The entire family continues to retain sole Canadian citizenship. As improved a life they have been provided, not all immigration stories have such a happy ending. Most immigrant families coming from south of the United States border, in the same financial situation as my mother and her family had been, will not have such luck. They are stuck in a paradox of stereotypes, between being perceived by the suburban white family as “lazy” or “taking all of our jobs.” Why is it that we turn a blind eye to our neighbors to the north, as if they collectively live up to the stereotype of unfaltering niceness? Though much has been said about these immigrants coming to the United States from Latin America, very little attention is being paid to the immigrants coming from Canada and Western Europe due to prejudice.

Baby suggs and Sethe are both the Mother figues in beloved and despite their suffering from slavery they both cared for their children greatly. Baby Suggs and Sethe connected through Motherhood to develop a close bond. They shared the love for their children a bond that all mothers can relate with. Sethe has four children that she loves very much but she could not deal with her past of sweet home. Sethe could not bare for that to happen to her children so she had to save them from the schoolteacher and slavery by trying to kill them. She kills one child whom is referred to as beloved for what is written on her tomb stone, but fails to kill howard buglar, and Denver. Sethe motherly natural instincts caused her

What is a mother? Most with this title are indeed moms, but are they true “Mothers”? The title of “Mother” holds great meaning with most people, including myself. It does not simply mean a mom. No, a mother is the woman who nurtures you, holds us when no one else will and teach us lessons that cannot be found or bought anywhere else, by anyone else. My Mother is a strong, determined, hard working woman that has taught me the importance of putting others before myself. She has sacrificed a great deal for our family and continues to teach me more and more no matter how old or wise I think I get. She has shown amazing strength and determination. I believe my mother to be the perfect example of how a true mother should be in her own imperfect way.

However, my parents always understood me. My sister would encourage me to do things that most people would put me down for. I was really good at singing when I was 10 years old. I’ll never forget my older sister always asking me sing for her. As the year progressed, my mother started getting extremely sick. My sister and I never thought anything of it because our mom was always sick. This was simply because she walked to work everyday. She had to walk not because we did not have a vehicle, but it was because my mother could not drive. An accident occurred years before I was even born. My mother’s legs locked up and she crashed. It would take years of physical therapy to recover from it. She also wasn 't supposed to be able to have any

I sat on my bed with my arms wrapped tightly around my pillow swaying back and forth. My mom lightly knocked on my door and asked if she could come in. I tried to wipe away the stains left by my long stream of tears, but I felt my skin sting and eyes swell instead. She asked if I wanted to talk about it, but my response got stuck in my throat, so all I could do was shake my head and shove my head deep inside my pillow. Her bare feet smacked on the concrete as she made her way over to my bed. Her weight made an indent in the corner of my mattress as she sat down and laid a hand on my back.

Throughout the last couple of years I have red an array of books all within a variety of genres, reading these both inside and outside the classroom, all of which impacting myself in a variety of different ways. However, during my final unit in English; nonfiction, students were given the chance to chose any nonfiction book of their liking. From this, I chose the novel A Mothers Reckoning by Sue Klebold. This heart-wrenching novel comes from the perspective of Sue Klebold, the mother of Dylan Klebold who committed the Columbine High School Massacre alongside one of his friends. Both the impact and the effects of the Columbine shooting continue to mold and influence our current society, which is why I believe this book upholds a great significance to myself.

Although my sister raised me, not my mother. If I could call my sister, my mom i would, i’m the reason she ever wanted kids. Anywhere my sister Katherine was, i was right there with her. When my mother lived in my hometown, I would spend a week there with her then a week over at my dads, sometimes longer depending on my mothers schedule. My mom always worked nights, so she was tired all day, that’s why I always spent time with my sister because she had to watch me. Dad knew nothing about hair, or makeup, or how a girl should dress so my sister did all the work. My sister then got pregnant when I was twelve. My dad kicked her out and It was a lot for me to take on because i’ve never had to do anything without my sister but now I had to live without her. I then started sleeping in her room.

My life seemed normal until my mother died. Before this happen, I was happy to spend time with my mother daily. Every day I went to work and came back home on my lunch break to eat lunch with my mother. I loved my mother because was my best friend. I could talk to her about anything and she would listen to me. She was a sweet and loving mother and I always enjoyed having lunch with her. My co-workers would get upset with me because I never stayed and ate lunch with them.

At age three I said “I love you mommy.” At age seven I said, “Mom, stop kissing my cheek!” At age fifteen I say, “You’re so annoying – I can’t wait to move out!” At age eighteen, I’ll be saying “I miss home.” At age twenty-seven I’ll be saying “I miss my mom.” At age forty I’ll be saying “I miss you so much; I wish you didn’t have to go.” My mom is the sun to my shine.

A mother is someone who can take the place of all others but no one can take the place of her. There are many different definitions you could use to describe your mother. My mother, Pam Krull, fits every one of those. Today I decided to pick the three that I thought was most important to me. I admire and aspire to be like my mother because of how supportive, how selfless, and how loving she is.

Lesa Howard is a very soft spoken, caring and courageous woman. She doesn’t take anybody's crap and that’s what makes her, her. She has the most outrageously colorful personality of anybody I've ever met. I suppose I could say that's where I get it from. This woman is my mother. Better yet, she's my best friend, my mom and I have had our ups and downs, I mean who hasn’t? Since we are so alike, we butt heads a lot but I love her more than anything. She described it as "We're so similar that we have a great relationship and I can say what I mean honestly without making you mad." Growing up she was my rock. Especially my high school days, it was always so hard to fit in as a new freshman, even in college it doesn’t get any easier. She was

When I was 14 years old, I realized that my mom and I are very similar. My mom and I have always been close. We laugh and joke with each other and can also have serious conversations with one another. The two of us both have dark coffee colored hair that’s almost a hazelnut color in the sun. Our eyes are penny brown that can change to almost a caramel color.

My mother was born on June 27th, 1977, in a tiny rural area called El Cerrrito, in the outskirts of Monterrey, Nuevo Leon, Mexico. She lived a very sad, somber, and unhappy childhood as she lost her father at the young age of 2. This tragic incident lead to my grandmother upholding the role of both mother and father. She worked fulltime as a photographer and provided for the household, while simultaneously raising my mother with the help of her parents. This caused great unhappiness in my mom’s family. My Great Grandparents, still alive today, helped raise my mom as a child. They served as the second parents that my mother never really had, but due to this inattention, my mother was able to do what she pleased. . The one person that my

On September 23, 2004 a healthy baby boy was brought into the world. The doctor sporting a snow-white lab coat with a blue collared shirt exclaims to my mother, “congratulations a beautiful baby boy.” I had a brother now, someone I could spend time with, someone to bond with. I sat next to my father as my mother corralled the newly born child within her arms. “What’s his name?” I enthusiastically asked my father. My dad pronounced, “his name is Joey, and he is your new baby brother.”