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Ode To My Mother

The more I grow the more I realize that my mother is my best best friend I've had.

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Ode To My Mother

I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes looking at my computer screen, trying to figure how I can put my respect and love for my mother into words. But how do you thank the woman you gave you everything; who gave you this life to live. How do you thank her? Is it by gifts or never missing a birthday? Or is she thanked when teachers in school tell her that her child has made the honor roll? Is she thanked when you as a three-year-old climb into her bed in the morning to wake her, or is she thanked when your name is proudly read at college graduation. How can you thank someone who gave you life for giving you everything?

The concept of being a mother is an unfathomable one. You can never really truly understand being a mother until you have yourself become one. And mothers come in all shapes and sizes. I heard once a family talk about how they never use the word “step” when referring to family. The girl described how her biological mother had left her and her dad three days after she was born. Her father soon remarried and this woman raised the girl; this woman is the only “mother” she really remembers. And she does not refer to her as a “step” mom because “step means fake and she is not fake, she is family”. Families come in all shapes and sizes, some with biological mothers, some with adoptive mothers, and some who have mothers that swooped in to save the day at just the right time.

Mother’s are incredible gifts and I know that mothers will say their children are incredible gifts, but they would not be mothers without their children right? A mother is the most amazing person ever, going through hell and back just to give birth to you; going through hell and back to put you through school and work and just preparing you for life. Mothers come in all shapes and sizes and there's no better time to thank one.

I dedicate this one to my mother; my savior and protector, the woman who taught me right from wrong and left from right. I was raised to be a smart, respectful woman because I was raised by a smart, respectful woman. And I will never be anything less. I know that stuff happens; sadly, mothers die or leave or just don’t know how to be mothers, but to the ones who do know how, the ones who stay or live, or just any motherly figure in someone’s life should be thanked. It takes a lot to raise a child, but it takes even more to be a good, dedicated mother, and I am truly blessed with the one I have.

This is an ode to my mother; to my light shining me through the darkest tunnels, to the tissue and shoulder to cry on when need, to the woman who taught me right from wrong, respect from disrespect, and most importantly, she taught me how to be a woman. An ode to my mother, the only woman I know strong enough to handle me.

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