Forty things I love, Week One. My mother

Love

“All the forces on this planet, will never beat that of a mother’s love.” ― Elle Smith, The Way Back Home

Here is a little Diddy for you about a girl born in the wrong situation. But I got blessed with a strong mother. Without her, I fear the person I would be. One is that my mother optioned not to abortion me, and in her situation I would of. (More detail on that in a minute.) But the amazing part is she didn’t. She raised me with morals, and high expectations of myself. Without her.. I wouldn’t be here right and without our parents majority of us wouldn’t be here.

The situation between Mother and Father

Once upon a time, there was a woman disabled with one arm who already had a son, and fell for a man who just wasn’t right. In simple terms, Father treated my mother with abuse and it’s revealed he was an addict of explicit material. My mother for thirteen years fought for my safety even when he put thirty-eight bruises on her skin. I will say she taught me to fight for what I believe in.

My favorite stories about my mother

“A mother’s love gives us the best inspiration and energy to grow up as a human being in this garden of humanity” ― Debasish Mridha MD

We all have stories about our lives and our parents. But me I have some of the best stories with my mother. From the time she tried to break into someone else’s car by accident to the time she took me to my first concert. In all there are plenty of stories I could tell but the one I am about to explain is a story that not only holds my deepest memories but it also explains why I hate being in charge of directions.

My story begins when I was in sixth grade. My mother was losing the house she owned to my father, and it was time we get a move on. We packed her tiny chevy car with everything that could fit it and then drove out of the state of Connecticut, through New York, and into Canada without a passport. (It helps we had Canadian like last names. French last names common in Montreal.) Surprise. We passed board patrol.

After passing border patrol we should have headed towards Niagara falls but my mother relied on me. You never rely on me for directions. I will never steer you right. A left should’ve been the exit we took to Toronto, but I ended up sending us six hours towards Montreal. (I was reading a Harry Potter book for a majority of the ride and GPS was a lot harder to come by back then.)

When we hit Montreal, my mother knew we were for certain out of our way in a strange place. Strange places bring forth an interesting vibe. The buildings and bridges were beautiful what marks me as funny was that we had to entrap a poor citizen to get out of Montreal and back on track for Toronto.

The driver of the car stuck behind us only knew French and the passenger could translate into English. They told us to follow them out of Montreal and we did. But we ended up in a crash in the confines of Otranto. At this point I had reached the tragic end for Dumbledore and cried my eyes out while there was a carnival going on outside the hotel room we were staying in. What this trip taught me is that destinations are not always going to be made. However, it taught me the power to of patience with myself and with my mother.

One of the few songs that my mother and I enjoyed throughout the trip was;

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