5 years old:
I stood and stared, for hours, out of the window of our New York apartment building waiting for my father to show up. It was my birthday. He never showed up. I don’t remember much about New York, but I remember looking out of that window for a long time. I remember waiting. Continue reading
“She’s not my mom. She just gave birth to me.” That’s what I told the judge. I was 13 yrs old and had recently run away from the children’s home. He gave me the option to go back, live with my mom or put myself in foster care. Continue reading
English is not mom’s first language and though she can speak English well, she sometimes gets her words mixed up.
When teaching people how to crochet, she will often point to a book and tell them to look at the diaphragm.
Sometimes she helps with groceries and buys paper toilet for the bathrooms and Fruit of the Loops for breakfast. Continue reading
My mom is easy to make happy. Brunch, dinner, shopping (window shopping), a movie or a new plant will usually make her day. Every now and then we make time some of this and have a mother/daughter date.
Her favorite thing to do is watch a good movie. You can count on her to go watch a movie with you when no one else wants to go. Especially if it’s 3-D. Continue reading
It seems that I am not the nicest person when I wake in the morning or when roused from sleep at anytime.
While most people need a few minutes, hours even, to get their thoughts together when the first rolling out of bed. I’ve learned I have to work on being nice–I’ve learned, from my mom, that my life depends on it.
One morning, after a long and restful sleep, Continue reading
About 5 years before my mother retired she asked if she could live with me. It was important to her to spend time with me because she missed time with me growing up. The first year that she lived with me I kept constant watch on her, worried there might be a sudden decline in health or that she might go through depression. Continue reading
