A Story I Wish I Could Tell

I always listened to my mom growing up, whenever I wanted to deviate from her rules she somehow knew about them. The best moments with my mom would be when she smiled. It lit up a room and gave security in my heart. Although, she had 7 children, one miscarriage, and one child was taken from her from child protective services. I always tried my best to understand her life. Through my siblings, they would tell me who she was back then, drinking, hustling guys for whatever she wanted. The freedom we had as children were only freedom because she was tired.

Tough woman, beautiful in an antique kind of way. physically strong and even when we had nothing down to the curb, she picked her head up to protect us. through her belief in God, I knew she was our angel no matter the judge or circumstances. I use to be the last child until the last affair. seeing her be my mom and dad I chose to be closer to her more masculine side. I felt like if anything were to happen I would have to step up.

She was the kind of woman who had connections, with a lot of debt, But her words made everything seem better more understanding. I grew up hardly hearing her laugh in joy, cry in joy, smile because she was proud. It was the opposite most of the time. Suffered from bipolar, and depression, one thing for sure she never showed her children her pain. One time we were really homeless, in the car sleeping with three girls. We slept in front of a police station downtown Los Angeles, where I heard my mother crying, on the brink of giving up. I was scared, not in any way like a horror movie. In the way that this is when our lives completely don't matter and without our mother I would forget everything in existence to me. I loved her the most knowing she was stronger than the devil himself.

I have very few great moments with my mom, In fact, I was angry, sad, and lonely. I grew up around her to watch and learn. We weren't tucked in bed at night, eat at the table with family, or even so much as attending our, no my sports events. I had my mother in me, but I always felt like she wasn't really there. who to talk to, who to cry on, or say what was bothering me. I loved her the most because she kept me, feed me, and reliable.

Everyone has a mother I wished I had, then I realize that my mother was more than a caregiver, she was a walking example of manny lives she lived. Disrespecting her no matter who you are she would fight with her eyes closed and not miss one hit. My home never felt like a home, my life is a product of my mother. first child at 14 years old, rape victim, and the last child out of 14 siblings. the funny part is when it comes to numbers, yes, my mother was the 14 child,'s, last child. I was the 6th child out of 7 siblings, of course before the 7th was born. The 7th child was her all-time favorite, she had everything as a child we as in us others never could get.

I was her mos hated child, I never really knew why on her terms. My siblings told me it was because I reminded her of the one child who was taken by the state. To this day all I can say now is "I love you mom, and I forgive you as you rest in peace. There is not much I can say without getting emotional rather than inspired. It took me a long time to finally write this without deleting every submission I thought was orchestrated to be the best. I realized that this is more than winning writing for me, it's to help me also. To come back and reflect. To win this in her honor would be almost entirely choking.

Men liked my mom, due to her large family she created and birth into this world I can not speak for myself to say I lack love. She was talented, creative, patient, and very southern. brought us to California for a better life. Louisana was not the place she wanted to start over. I am very thankful for her bringing us here. I had to adapt to the fast life, the capitalism, the phonies, and the Hollywood wannabes.

The things that stayed with me the most were her sayings, her actions, her reactions. now we make it comedy when we raise our children. I had to tell myself on several occasions I am not my mother, but I will grow up with wisdom as to why she was the way she was. It is not her fault, it was her destiny. thank you for reading, I ran out of things to say but inside her universe is manifesting in my growth.