immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
Momma Mia
I believe behind every great person is a great woman because we were all born to mothers. And moms seem to have a significant impact on our lives. My mother was my greatest influence, the person who gave me a phenomenal foundation that helped me to find myself and my path in life. Her essential lessons, good nature, and loving soul were a testament to what she learned from her mothers before her. I remember back then we called our mom Ima, Hebrew for mother, which felt more like her own personal imperial title. In my early years she was not as involved in my formation because our father ruled the roost. Our whole existence as a family was about supporting his work and religion, since he was a leader in the Jewish community. Sadly, my dad passed away when I was only 14, which profoundly changed the family structure. Now there was only my mother, my sister Irene (who had returned home a couple of years earlier), and me. And I had just entered those most poignant and formative years- the TEENS! We were all going through dramatic changes, and my mother became the glue that held us together, the steady rock in our unstable lives.
By Janet Freedland5 years ago in Families
Dreaming Forever More
The Wild Child A mother with four children. A woman of art and jazz, soul and music in the midst of a dream to be. Of dreams and aspirations. Living in the moment. Stealing the spotlight with her charm and aristocrat poetry, and saxophone solos. She stood apart. Having met a piano player in her younger years, my mother was immersed in the lounge scene. Retro music revived the hippy culture of the Kootenay Mountian oasis. Just with her and the members of her band. Collusion, they want to be a revolution of stride. A dark smokey bar where the people hind. My mother was their entertainment. Should could sing. Anything, opera, jazz, blues, country. A wild child. An artist, a poet, a dreamer.
By Opal A Roszell5 years ago in Families
Momprints
“I already know the truth and if you lie you will be in serious trouble.” Her eyes were locked on me. I couldn’t see it- as I was looking to the ground – but I felt her eyes all over me. My heartbeat began a rhythm that sent vibrations through my ears. My legs got numb as I slowly opened my mouth – not even sure what all I would need to share. I had no idea how much she knew already. I lifted my head only to the meet the piercing gaze of my mother looking down at me.
By Lisa Johnson5 years ago in Families
A Beautiful Soul
This, my lovely readers, is a ghost story. A tragic tale of loss and love, and everything in between. My parents were older. They had me when my mother was 44 and my father was 59. My father had been a heavy smoker since he was 18. By the time I was born, he had gotten to a point where he smoked at least a pack a day. They had met 23 years prior at this point, and had grown very close. My mother knew that my father’s smoking habit was extremely unhealthy and came to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn’t be there to see the child they would have - if they had one, grow up. Eventually, after much persuasion from my mother, my father agreed.
By Maylynn Cosby-Martin5 years ago in Families
My Mom Was a #BossMom Before The Word
My mother and father wanted nine boys so they could have their own baseball team. When my brother Lemont arrived, they were very encouraged. When my sister Tresa arrived, they were just a little disappointed. When they tried again, I was the second daughter -- Things were not looking so good for the baseball team. They analyzed the situation and realized that even if every subsequent baby was a boy, they would have to produce. feed and care for eleven children. That was more than they had bargained for. So, they changed their goal to raise each of the three children they had been blessed with to reach their maximum potential--to be a star in their own right!
By Dee Livingston5 years ago in Families
I wrote this for you mom
Things my mom taught me? I mean there is the obvious walk, talk, blah blah blah. I love my mom, but she is not my hero. I’m not sure if she weren’t my mom that we would even be friends. I lived with her father for a while, and I get it. I know, or at least have a pretty good idea of how she was raised. He was probably worse when he was younger. We are a product of our circumstances and everyone on this earth is just trying their best to get from point A to point B.
By Ashley Mostoller5 years ago in Families
My Hero
I am sure most people have a story about how wonderful their moms are, and how much she means to them. In fact, I am sure that every story entered in this contest deserves to win. So, in no way, do I think my story is better than any other stories you might read but maybe just a little different. However, in order to tell about how amazing my mom is I have to tell you a little bit about me because my story only exists because my mom sacrificed everything to make it happen. Without my mom being the embodiment of what a superhero truly is I would not be alive today to tell you about her. I am sure that no matter how detailed of a story I write I can never truly express the depths or lengths my mom went to, or the sacrifices she made, to make sure I had a chance in this life. She is not only my hero, but the epitome of the selfless nature all moms represent to their children.
By Daniel J Price5 years ago in Families
My Mom is Not a Rib
My mom is not a rib. Throughout my childhood, my mom would often declare, “I am not a rib.” She was definitive, certain. But I didn’t know why she said it. Now, as a mother myself, I am slowly beginning to discover all that this sentence holds.
By Mandy Osterhaus Ream5 years ago in Families
Love Is A Sacrifice
Dear Mom, Today, I want to honor you with a special letter to tell you why I love you. First, off I need to start with your mother for she taught you; and you have taught me more than I could ever hope to learn from anyone else. You taught me in love, with love, of love and how to love.“Thank you,” could never express even a grain of sand on the shore of all that I am grateful for. Yet, I say it anyway as it is all this language has to offer. So, thank you.
By Krystal Snider5 years ago in Families
