English 100 02
September 11, 2013
A Special Person
A special person to me is my mother. She has my back no matter what, she gives me the advice that I need to help me through my problems, and she has become my best friend, and I could not thank her enough for what see has given me. Eighteen years ago my mother gave birth to me, and it was a miracle. My mother was not even supposed to have children, so to her my sister and I are a blessing to her. I was an at risk baby, my mom and dad took care of my mom’s parents and she tore the placenta. Ever month she would have to go to the hospital because her and my dad thought they were losing me. When I was born I was two weeks late, yet I was so tiny my mom said people thought I was a premature baby.
My entire mom’s life she had to earn it herself, my grandfather worked a lot and my grandmother had to take on four children. My mom was kind of a geek in school, she told me that she would ask the teacher for extra work or she would read. My mom also got picked on a lot; my mom isn’t the skinniest person in the world, she is 5’7’ with brown hair and brown hair and all mom. She told me when she was in the fourth grade she had to start wearing bras and kids would push her down and stuff pinecones down her shirt. Although in high school my mom finally caught a break, she would tutor some of the kids in school and they would protect her. One story she told me was the one girl who bullied her most needed tutoring in the class that my mom was great at; so the teacher asked my mom to tutor her and helped her pass so she could stay on the cheer squad. Even for college my mom worked and had to go to school. She would come home and do her laundry and my grandmother would sneak packed lunches or dinners in her clothes because my grandfather said “if she wants to be independent she can take care of herself”. My grandmother saw my mom losing so much weight from just eating ramen noodles that she started sneaking food into my mom’s laundry. My grandfather loved my mom but sometimes was a jerk to her, and to this day I still don’t understand why. Even after my parents married each other, they would have to go to work and then rush to my grandparent’s house and hurry and cook dinner for them and take care of them for the weekend.
My mom always was kind to people, so I never understood why people treated her like dirt. One story she told me hurt even me, her boyfriend at the time cheated on my mom with her best friend. They all hung out as a group, and either my mom had to work or had homework and she couldn’t go and told them to go ahead. My mom never could catch a break