Friday, February 1, 2019

My Mother Essay -- Descriptive Essay Examples, Observation

My Mother       When I was young, I drew a picture of my rear. It was her standing in a yard with a kin in the background.  It wasnt our house, and my bring forth looked care anyone but herself.  Dressed entirely in one thousand, with green hair and a green expression on her green face, she stood in front of a green two-story house surrounded by a green landscape.  Green was her favorite color, and I wanted to catch a surprise let out of the drawing for her.       My grow was a god to me in those days, and in my eyes she could do no wrong.  I animadvert she understood this, and in turn she lavished attention on me like I was a princess in my own little world whose wishes were to be carried out no matter the cost.  We were close, too, and not a day went by when I did not divulge some sort of secret fellowship to my mom.        My mother was a game show contestant also, answering countle ss questions with the unbounded patience that only an experienced mom can possess.  Her prize for a satisfying answer was a flash of comprehension in my tiny, shiny eyes and a hesitant Oh as I caught on.  It seemed to make my mother just as happy to pass on the age-old knowledge of why the sky is blue as it made me to learn of it.  My never-failing love for her at that age seemed to motivate her to new heights of mom-hood, as she constantly fought battles of her own with my father (who she divorced when I was four), and with her own shortcomings.        I also remember my mother as beautiful.  She had dark hair-the kind you die hard your fingers through just to feel how soft it is-and it always smel... ...   I like to bank that Ive accepted my self-induced isolation from her with grace, but I must assent that I do hold the hope of bridging the gap between my mother and I.  I also hold the hope of amending myself for all the times Ive wittingly and purposefully hurt her.  Although she is not a god, as I to begin with assumed, she is a good woman.  She has raised me, sheltered me, and loved me for over xvii years without asking for more than casual chores in return.  I believe that the greatest compliment I could ever give my mother is to grow up to be exactly what she wants me to be.  I want to make her happy.  My deliver to her will be my success in life, so that when shes old and gray, and shes create from raw material me a hideous sweater in her creaky rocking chair, she can sigh, and mutter to herself, Wow, it was worth it.

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