Personal Narrative: My Mother

I grew up watching my mother strive to give me a better life and become a better person. Amongst great difficulty, she decided to finish school and attend university. Her hard work and determination have marked and defined my life. Every day she had to work, then go to university and later take care of me. She excelled in every aspect of her life, teaching me that the impossible is overcome through hard work and

The person who has inspired in my mother Donja McAllister. My mother is a hard working person and always wants what is best for her family. She sacrifices her own time and money just to make my brother and me happy. She has spent a big portion of her life caring for others. My mother has always thought of what is best for us. She encourages us to do our best in school and pursue what makes us happy. She wants us to get a good education so that when we grow up we have the skills to pursue whatever career we what. For a while now my mother has the burden of taking care of her two children alone. She is constantly making sacrifices for us so that we can get to school and do all the after school activities for example when I was still in gymnastics

On November 17,1989 my mother Juanita Renea Ohlinger went into labor at 6:00 A.M. she was in labor for 12hrs. She laid there in so much pain at Providence hospital until Dr. Kendal Foster showed up and told her she had to have a C-section because her pelvis would not expand. The nurse hooked my mother up to monitors and willed her to the operating room, my father Raymond F Smith was dressed in hospital operating clothes. Dr. Foster began to open my mother’s womb and pulled me out at 5:25 pm.

I was so scared, I was about to walk down the aisle for my mom’s wedding. September 9,2017, I felt so pretty with my long rose colored dress with my makeup and my rose colored nail polish. Holding flowers and a ring box, it was a little hard but I did it! Ok, here I go everyone was clapping and I was nervous, then I got to the end of the aisle and “plop” the top of the ring box fell ugh I was so mad I couldn't even get it because I had so much in my hand I had to go back for it, so I turned around and got the top and stood in my place.

It was my mom that inspired my life choices and values. My mom has been through a lot of hardships, and never once has she painted herself as a victim. She is the type of individual who sees a problem and focuses on solving it, not yielding to facile excuses and roadblocks. Whenever, I am encountering a hardship, I always call my mom because she always knows the right things to say. I am inspired by the toughness, courage, and the hard edge hope that she brings into my life, and for always reminding me to fight against the odds and that all is

By the grace of god, I was given a wonderful mom that actually cared about me and wanted me to succeed and live a good life other than the one I was living in back in the day. She heavily supported me throughout my elementary and intermediate years of school and she still gives me that same support. She gave me hope for a better future. My mentality frame in middle school was to get my mom out from the poverty lifestyle and later in life purchase her a house

From working several jobs at a time to make sure I had everything I needed, she became the reason why I was raised the way I raised. The lesson that “ I should treat everyone like the most important person in the world because I will never know when I might need them” was engraved in my head was owned by my mother. Sometimes she would tell me that she had holes in her socks and I knew it was due to most of her money going towards my private school tuition in order for me to be able to have the best education I could get. My mother is my background, my identity, interest, and talent. She is truly the one that has set me up for success, regardless of how fatigued or overworked she is. She is the person who truly defines who I am and who I have become to this

I’m pretty sure every young women might say there mother is someone who supported there drive to get there college education, but have they told you why they look up to them, or what has she done for them too look

In this paper I am going to tell you about my mom's life, her name is Tracy and she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, at Xavier Hospital on December 27, 1972 . I am going to tell you about her family, her early influences, her education and finally her interests.

As I lay awake in the hospital bed I can hear them speaking. I can hear them and I can sense them but I can not see them. My body will not move although I try with all my might. Ever since the accident I haven't been able to open my eyes or move my limbs. The doctors don’t realize that I can hear them, that I know exactly what's going on. Every time they come in the room I listen to their banter. One of them is a man and the other is a woman. THe door always squeaks open and they rush in, immediately wondering what hey should do to me next or where they should move me. Today was no exception as they scurried in fast and began their discussion as usual.

My mom works as an accountant. I wouldn’t like that job because it’s really hard for me. My mom wants me to get a really good job and she doesn’t want me to get a girl pregnant because then I’m gonna ruin my life because I would have to be taking care of the baby.

It’s easy to fall in love with the feeling of being numb, the feeling of euphoria. Some people who experience this high have the ability to say “never again.”, and move on with their lives. Others crave that feeling, helping them escape reality. My mother was one of the most severe cases that many doctors and other addicts have ever encountered. She started using when she was just a young teen, maybe about thirteen or fourteen years old. It wasn’t just one particular drug, but many different types. If she couldn’t get high, she’d get drunk as hell. She used to lie to doctors and psychiatrists, faking certain symptoms to get prescribed whatever drug she wanted. A lot of times, it actually worked. She’s been diagnosed with just about every type

Growing up for me was rough, I grew up in Brooklyn, New York where nobody expected much from the youth. I had to be different, my only escape was school. School was the only thing that kept a smile on my face. School was my gateway to happiness. I made the choice to go to college because I wanted to learn more. I wanted to further my education so I can better myself and enlighten my community. I knew college would be expensive, but the cost did not deter me. When there is a will there is a way. The only person that helped me finance my college career was my mother. No one else tried to help me. She was the only person I had that supported me 100%. The only thing that my mother wanted me to do was promise her was that I graduate from college. School was a big thing to my mother. When it came to school she did not play. She always believed in hard work, me wanting to further my education made her proud.

She may not have a hot shot job that pays a high income or is able to buy designer clothes, but nevertheless she has defeated hardships that most would not be able to. Moreover, my dear mother has been burdened mental predicaments. Unfortunately, she has been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and a few other disorders. Though in this unfortunate situation, she has not let it affect her negatively anymore and she has come out strong. That still amazes me to this day. Then next, my mother raised my two older sisters and myself practically on her own. She has assistance from my grandmother, of course, but for the most of it she was alone. She raised us well, despite being mostly alone. Last, but definitely not least, mother has defeated many physical difficulties. She suffers from Fibromyalgia and has gone through several catastrophes. She has ended on top in spite of all her troubles. Altogether, my mother is immensely successful even if she does not think

After my mother and I have an argument she usually smiles at me and says, it’s because we’re so much alike that we argue. She reminds me that our lack of communicating often stirs more trouble than why we were arguing. I used to get upset that my mom didn’t set time aside for our family to spend time together or make us eat together at the dinner table. I was upset because I was comparing our family to my friends’ families. I valued those things and assumed my mom didn’t, but I was wrong. My mom had so much on her mind everyday it was breaking her on the inside. Not only had I wanted my mom to be like my friend’s moms, now I had wanted my mom to be different because she was depressed. Bonhoeffer mentions that we desire images of others that we want, but aren’t the true image they bear as Christ’s (pg37-38). At first I was puzzled. How is a good image of mine, not Christ’s image for her? I learned that His image is neither right nor wrong, but simply uniquely divine. My mom could have done those things, but her whole life would have had to be different, and I would never want to change who my mom is.