My Mother Short Story

​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.

As mass incarceration and police brutality target present-day minorities, William Grimes, in describing one of his stints in prison, wrote, “I was compelled to lie there in my solitary cell for the space of three weeks, before any person appeared to buy me.” This state of legal limbo finds its modern counterpart in immigration detention centers, where those who enter the country illegally fearfully await deportation after much delay. The haunting idea of familial separation also manifests itself in the minds of the undocumented, as it did for Grimes, who lost contact with his mother at the age of ten. Beyond this lamentable situation, the effects of long-term oppression reveal themselves violently within communities. After beating an older enslaved man to protect and assert himself, Grimes remarked, “They did not attempt to touch me after that.”

On November 17,1989 my mother Juanita Renea Ohlinger went into labor at 6:00 A.M. she was in labor for 12hrs. She laid there in so much pain at Providence hospital until Dr. Kendal Foster showed up and told her she had to have a C-section because her pelvis would not expand. The nurse hooked my mother up to monitors and willed her to the operating room, my father Raymond F Smith was dressed in hospital operating clothes. Dr. Foster began to open my mother’s womb and pulled me out at 5:25 pm.

I open my eyes for the very first time. I’m in a strange white room. I’m looking up at Mom. Even though I’ve never known the word, or any word, I know it now. Who else could that lady be but Mom?

"So, wait, let me get this straight-" About 15 minutes into seclusion she CALLED, not texted, her best friend to hear what she had to say about this horrible atrocity to her 'freedom' as an adult of this family. "-you're parents payed a guy to watch the house....with you in it...doesn't that technically means he's Babysitting YOU...and not the house?"

“Estas loca que le vas a decir a tu papa? (you are crazy what are you going to tell your dad)” my mom said

when i was younger my mom was very sick and she had to get surgery ,it was really hard on the family because she was always the one cooking for us doing laundry for us and all the other things kids don´t usually do. When that unfortunate event happened i had to take charge and be able to do the same things as my mother did for us ,since she would be unable to move fore a few weeks do to the surgery. I took the lead and started to do every thing and even taking care of my mom when she was sick.Another thing that i took charge of was making food for the family and taking care of my sisters as well as by brother.As my brothe wasent very familiar with the stove and cooking ,he amired me for taking charge and being able to take of my mother. As

My mom experienced inequality what had happened is that she felt ashamed as a mother because we started to act very rude and not our usual selves. The parts of the society were involved as my mother, her kids, and also her family last but not least her wonderful HUSBAND Kendall Clark. Who helped feel like she is not a bad mother well she is not a bad mother. Is me her eldest daughter Akayla King, and her husband by telling her mothers is going to make mistakes nobody's perfect at all. Who seemed to be working against her is the devil he wants her to fail. How did my mom handle it is that she does a bible study every night by herself with the candle lighted up smelling like sweet cinnamon. The results is she found herself being confident towards

As the plane lands, I see a gray smoke hovering the whole city of Manila, Philippines. It was exactly as I remember it to be. Hot, humid, polluted, and lots of mosquitoes from left to right. These weren’t pleasing at all, however there’s something here that makes me want to go back every time. That is my very own mother.

I can still remember vividly the day my mother passed away. My mother passed away at a critical point in my life when I was seventeen years old from a short term illness. She was sick for a week and I remember thinking this could be serious, however, my mother declined to go to the hospital because of the distance and financial hardship. I had loss my father when I was three years old, so my mother was a single mother. I have step sisters and brother, but I was not particularly close to them. Losing my mother was a defining moment in my life for it changed my life irrevocably. I was devastated, but I had to become strong, proactive and it spurred me to choose a new career path.

It was early one summer afternoon, shortly after lunchtime, when I heard my mom scramble towards the door. There was little noise, besides her loud stomps and faint cries through the drywall. The wind whistled faintly through my slightly open windows. Suddenly, the air conditioning kicked in startling me. It sounded as if it was a faint boat in the distance. I could make out the sound of the air conditioning through my vents. My brother’s television powered on, as well as my dad’s. They whispered silently through the insulation. Eventually, it all turned off and once again there was my mom’s loud stomps and faint cries.

In 1859 Henry Ward Beecher said, "the mother’s heart is the child’s schoolroom." I believe that statement because of experiences I’ve had with my own mother. I have learned more about life from her than from my 15 years of schooling. Over the last 20 years my mother has taught me many valuable lessons just by being a living example of compassion, thoughtfulness, and generosity. She is an angel that has protected and carried me throughout life.

Now I can say that I had never understood others suffering from a bad loss of a dear person.  I would hate to hear that anybody died. When this happened to me, when my dear mother died, I started to understand all those people who lost someone they loved. There are perhaps no proper words to describe this pain, This intolerable pain which tears you apart, which is like a stone on your heart, and which make tears run down your face with each moment spent with the dear person who passed away. Time is unlikely to pass so fast this hurt, no matter what others claim.

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

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.