Essay on My Second 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.

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.

I like your momI like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom I like your mom This module explores the ethical issues regarding sexual behavior. In this activity, you will develop an essay about contemporary sexual morality.

May 31, 2001. My mom and father separated. I was born. There was struggle and commotion everywhere. How am I going to support five children? How am I going to raise FIVE children, all by myself? I am assuming those were questions my mom asked herself when I was born. I do not know how she accomplished it, but I know she raised five children, practically, on her own. And by doing so she inspired us all that we can defeat the obstacles life throws at us even if they seem impossible or difficult at the time.

As an eight year old kid in the 80’s I remember watching the movie Popeye by Robin Williams. “I yam what I yam, and that’s all that I yam.” I sang this tune in my head and out loud over and over again. I even added lyrics to suit me., “I’ll be want I want to be, I am what I yam.” It may be my first attempt at being true to myself, a self-identification, a personal statement and a compass of sorts

It seemed like a normal day when I entered Mrs. A’s AP Language and Composition class, but little did I know that she was going to assign a very important project that was going to take forever. I took my seat and wrote down what was on the board. Then I sat patiently and waited for Mrs. A to come explain what we were doing today. When the tardy bell rang, Mrs. A glided into the room and gave us all a stack of papers. She then proceeded to discuss our upcoming assignment, a memoir. As she explained the very important assignment, I wondered whom I would write about. No one really came to mind to write about and I thought for sure I would never be able to get this thing done on time. I finally decided that I would write in on my mother, Kari

Having grown up with a mother who was verbally and physically abusive, love and compassion didn't develop between us two, however, my hate, anger, and resentment thrived.

She would try to get lost. It was the eighties and we had no cell phones or GPS. But, we had a car, and she said we were free with a car. She drove down all the little roads, but we were never really lost because we were never really scared and all roads lead somewhere.

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.

As a high school math teacher, I am having rewarding experiences educating and motivating students, but it is not my true calling. I want to positively affect a wider scope of the public and do so in a way that can improve and potentially save lives. The medical field is the best option to fulfill this desire and becoming a physician's assistant has become my new passion. The aspects of the profession that most attract me are its rewarding nature and its fascinating and diverse content. Due to my experiences as an educator and professional football player, and to my intelligence and compassion, I am confident I would be an excellent physician's assistant. While shadowing a physician's assistant in an orthopedic practice, I met a patient, Diane, whose story solidified my commitment to becoming a PA. Seven months prior, Diane was on the verge of becoming a diabetic due to her obesity, but was unable to lose weight due to a poor diet and an arthritic knee that prevented her from exercising. The physician's assistant at Diane's family practice sent her to a dietician to improve her nutrition, and to an orthopedic center, where another physician's assistant gave her a series of Synvisc shots to relieve the pain in her knee. When I met Diane, she lost 42 pounds and, consequently, she would likely be approved for a knee replacement surgery that would allow her to continue her remarkable turnaround. The ability to work in diverse fields, such as a family

It is January 29th, 1989. Enrique’s mother has spent the money she’s been saving up to get a smuggler to bring her to the United States. The last thing Enrique sees from his mother is her stepping off of the porch and walking away, for she cannot face him. Although, Enrique is confused by this, “‘Dónde está mi mami?’ Enrique cries, over and over. ‘Where is my mom?’” (5). As the years go by, Enrique goes from house to house, turned down by his relatives. He blames his mother for the way his life has turned out. As much as he is hurt by his mother for leaving him, the desperation he needs for her love never ceases to exist. As he cries “over and over” for his mother, she never returns. The abandonment from all the people close to him serves

What can one say about their mother? One may talk about her positive and negative

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.