Sunday, September 1, 2019
A Single Mother Essay
What is a single mother? I doubt that anyone can truly understand that question unless they have been there themselves. I know one thing for certain, a single mother is someone who is filled with everlasting unconditional love. The definition of a mother to me is putting your life on hold while you perform the most difficult and thankless job. My younger brother and I were raised by my mom since I was 6 years old. I am now at an age where I can reflect and appreciate what it is to be a single mom. The person who first helped me safely across the street; who watched in exhilaration as I learned to ride a bike for the first time; who taught me the difference between right and wrong. Even though juggling family and career often seems like a daunting task, she somehow did it every day. I admit, at times, she would get frustrated and want to give up. My dad was out of the picture and not contributing to child support. My mom and my brother and me were on our own. My mom had us very young and never had the opportunity to get a college degree. She supported our family on a very small salary by working at the local bank. My mom always put the needs and wants of brother and I before herself. I want to describe the exhilaration in my MotherÃ¢â¬â¢s eyes as I learn to ride a bike for the first time. The belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. She says, she can taste the joy that is real, bringing her back to the first time. My hero is a blessed gift from GODÃ¢â¬ ¦..she is my Mother. However decisive she is at the office, she second guesses herself as a mother. Everyday decisions are no longer routine, it becomes a major dilemma for a five year old boyÃ¢â¬â¢s desire to go to the MenÃ¢â¬â¢s room rather than the WomenÃ¢â¬â¢s at McDonaldÃ¢â¬â¢s. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighted against the prospect of a child molester lurking in that restroom. At times, I admit, she would get frustrated, and want to give up. You want toÃ relax, but you endure the sleepless nights, crying babies, teaching the difference between right and wrong. Household duties that seem never ending, rushing to the office and barely making it there on time. I may be a parent someday and then, maybe, I will realize some of the many great sacrifices that makes her a mother.