Descriptive Essay About My Mother

​Parents are one of the most beautiful things that could happen to anyone. They are always there by your side no matter what; they always want the best for their children. They can be strict and protective, its because they love their kids and they don’t want them to get hurt. My parents are special to me because with all the hard time that they had to have me and my siblings in their life they still fought for us and didn’t give up, even after 17 years of trying. But for me? The greatest of all is my mom. She is the one that I look up too. She is the greatest of all. Simple, funny, strict, protective, but yet she is the best.

Beth a.k.a “Mama Beth” ,I know what you are thinking who calls there mom by her first name. well that’s the cool thing about my family we aren’t the average traditional family, and Mama Beth isn’t really my mom but at the same time she is. Hard to grasp the concept? yea i know how you feel. Beth is the closest thing i have to a mom at this point in time in my life she is strict and hard headed when need but caring and understanding. It was hardly even a month into my stay with Beth, Bri and Brayden when we actually started to face and understand the problems of my life. I was hurting and confused on life itself but Mama Beth was always there to guide me she gave me not only a role model but hope and love. She took me to church and help me connect with god again I remember the first time I heard her mention anything having to do with her religion.

My mother died four years ago from an asthma attack and not a day goes day that I don’t miss her! Initially, when I found out that she passed away; I was 15 years old at the time. As a result, I knew my whole life was about to change; I would have a void in my heart forever. Furthermore, losing my mother would change my perspective of the world, especially at such a young age. Although it’s hard to describe the pain that I felt, I can still remember her inner and outer beauty. Moreover, she fed me sacrificed proficient sleep. Also, I was very proud of my mother for going back to school to get her diploma. In my eyes, this made her a hero because of the obstacles that she had to overcome as an adult. To illustrate this point, she got pregnant during her senior year and had to drop out. However, being the strong, determined person that she was, she went back to school when my brother was six months old and earned her GED.

My mother died four years ago from an asthma attack and not a day goes by that I don’t miss her! Initially, when I found out that she passed away; I was 15 years old at the time. As a result, I knew my whole life was about to change; I would have a void in my heart forever. Furthermore, losing my mother would change my perspective of the world, especially at such a young age. Although, it’s hard to describe the pain that I felt, I can still remember her inner and outer beauty. For example, she fed me and sacrificed sufficient sleep on my behalf. Also, I was very proud of my mother for going back to school to get her diploma. In my eyes, this made her a hero because of the obstacles that she had to overcome as an adult. To illustrate this point, she got pregnant during her senior year and had to drop out. However, being the strong, determined person that she was, she went back to school when my brother was six months old and earned her GED.

My mother Toshaina has the biggest heart that could be given out to anyone who asked. Moreover, she is generous, patient and possesses a magnificent sense of humor. She always reminds me of sunflowers, she can brighten up anybody’s day by just talking to them. Her ability to stay strong in any situation is mind blowing. Her biggest motto was too always “be better than me” I would think to myself “how when you’re already so freaking great” but she ensured me that she’s not and definitely wasn’t at my age. She always had on a new pair of Jordan’s and polo outfit she felt like you couldn’t wear one without the other. The color she wore the most was yellow, being born a Jamaican she always loved the color since birth.

When I was 10 years old, I realized my so-called mother might not be related to me. I had started to grow to around 5’ tall, but I still felt small among my classmates, most of whom were 5’ 3” at the time. There was one person who would make me feel tall, and that person was my mother. Although my so-called mother was only 4’11, the difference was noticeable, well, to me at least. As soon as I saw the height difference, I immediately capitalized on it; it was one of the best things to happen to me.

Since I was a little girl my mother always taught to be strong, but in a mannerly way. She had to grow up quite fast, because she was born into a warzone, which made her very independent and strong at a young age. In our culture, it’s unusual to have a friendship with your parents because it should be more of a private relationship. Thankfully, my parents and I had an open relationship about everything and get to express my feelings without having to hide them. For my mother, she witnessed things kids her age should not, she gone through things many did not, and she also suffered a lot of pain and deaths of her loved ones. “I remember being so scared of my mother’s corpse, and I had to ask myself why I was scared, the woman lying there is my mother,” she said as she was reminiscing about her mother’s death. I wondered to myself of how it must have been for her; but she continued on to tell me the story. “A few months later we lost your uncle and we didn’t worry because we knew that mom was up there waiting for him, but then we had your oldest brother and he died from an overdose on malaria vaccination when he was only seven months.” Hearing her going through that made me feel like I got stabbed in the chest. I just sat there and thought about how empty and lonely she must have felt during those years. She later told me, “sometimes we lose the big things in our lives so that our eyes can open up to all the little things we take for granted.” Anytime I would

No matter how stressful life gets for me or how chaotic life can become there has always been one person that I know I can turn to, my mother. She’s been a wealth of advice to call on when I’m clueless and a shoulder to cry on when I’m down. Her compassion for others inspires me to be a better person as does the guidance she has given me over the years. She’s not afraid to give me a reality check and to tell me the things I don’t want to hear even though I need to. She keeps me grounded and teaches me to appreciate the smaller things in life. Even though my father was still involved in my life after my parents split up it was my mother who I primarily lived with and it was her who had the greatest influence on my life growing up.

Most of my family photo albums are packed with pictures of me with my grandmother. There she is, bathing me as a newborn, and there again, holding me as a little girl, a huge grin lighting up my face. Her name is Maria Luisa Lishner de Albertis, and though everyone has always called her Lucha, to me she has always been Mami. For every moment of my life, she’s been there: every single recital, ceremony, or event I’ve been a part of; all the home cooked meals she’d wake up early to cook for the family, even now that the memories of her favorite recipes have started to fade; and all those nights in high school when she’d hear me crying from her room, and come to sit at the foot of my bed and speak to me in her gruff yet so sweet voice. Mami has seen me at my worst and at my weakest, and not once has her quiet, under-appreciated love ever faltered.

November 12, 1998, I first laid eyes on the woman I would call my symbol for the rest of my life. “First my mother, forever my friend(unknown)”. Not everyone has a symbol like Tanya Clark, but she is everything you desire to be. Mom is unblemished when it comes to representing love, strength, and independence.

One day, I was brought into this world with beautiful blonde hair and the sweetest baby blue eyes. Actually, my hair was barely there, I was pretty much a bald baby. I was ever so loved by my parents and had a big sister who was protective of me. I grew up with a huge extended family who loved me unconditionally. I had two great grandparents, four grandparents, five aunts, five uncles, and twenty cousins all portraying different forms of love as I grew older and older. As all people tend to pick favorites in the family, I am guilty of it as well. I got extremely attached to my paternal grandmother, Sue.

My eyes wandered around the room that my grandmother now resided in, drinking up every detail and at the same time, cautiously avoiding the bed that was in the center of the room. I couldn't bear to look at my once lively and animated grandma now laying there looking lethargic. No would even believe me if I described how my she used to look; her expressive eyes were full of knowledge and secrets that only she knew, her surprisingly thick hair that was red from the henna she puts on every other saturday, and a warm smile that made anyone feel special if it was directed at them, I want to remember her as my grandma who used make an extra cake when we baked together because she knew that I wouldn't like the one I made, not as my grandma who is on a bed that may as well be her death bed. Her loud laughter used to echo through her small and cozy house that I used to spend all my summers in. Now you'd have to listen closely to be able to hear her, her vocals not being able to produce a sound louder than a whisper.

Any women can be a mother but it takes someone special to be a mother. Having someone in your life who means so much to you is a blessing. My Mom, Fatima was born on June 4, 1973. Moving to her appearance, I could say that the way she acts says a lot about her personality. She is the kind of person that is interesting to listen. Every time I listen to her, I learn something new. The moment she had me in her life was also a blessing for her. Im her third daughter. She is someone who cheers me up while I’m feeling sad. Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Her smile is the only thing that will make me happy throughout the day. Her guiding hand on my shoulder will remain forever. Ever since her childhood, my mom was taught that

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.

My mom has gone through a lot to get where she is today. I will begin by telling you a little bit about my mom’s background. My mom grew up outside of George with her parents, Harris and Bev Kaster, and her three siblings, Erik, Brad, and Kristy. She attended George High School when they were still Blue Jays. My mom was involved in a lot of different activities. She was in the play, large group and individual speech, a cheerleader, played the drums in band, was in student council, secretary of her class, REC club, band, and jazz band. In her free time she hung out with friends and her sister. She had a few jobs growing up also. She babysat a lot, worked at the library, and the dentist office. My mother also helped teach bible school, catechism, and attended youth group at Hope Reformed Church.