Editorials
What My Mother Means to Me
By: Ccep J. Dew
westcoasteditor@excapethematrix.com
My mother means everything to me. She’s the reason why I am who I am.
My mother has always supported my numerous endeavors and there have been many. She was there at the plays and the track meets and even filled her van with my teammates and pretended to be our couch when our real coach let us down. She always talks about me to her friends and to strangers and never hesitates to tell me how proud of me she is, how much she loves me, and how much she misses me.
I’m a lot like my mother, though like any child I try to deny it. We’re both stubborn, talkative, and love to read. We both love learning about new things and people, working with children, and spending a relaxing day at home. We love home improvement and hate someone telling us that we can’t do something.
My mother is stronger than she knows and a lot of times she doesn’t give herself the credit that she deserves, but that’s what I’m here for. She’s overcome a world of trials, yet still can find a reason to smile and give back to others.
Because of my mother’s love of knowledge, she read to me as a child and I in turn inhale books on a regular. Because of her love for Michael Bolton, I enjoy all kinds of music. She helped me with my homework, even when neither of us could understand it and always encouraged me to do my best.
I can remember going to the $5 movie theater every Saturday, to church every Sunday, and to the Towson fair every year. Even though I don’t consider myself much of a churchgoer, the faith and belief in God that she instilled in me has kept me strong and motivated. It has carried me through tough times when all I had was my thoughts and God.
To me, my mother means relaxation and good times. She taught me to crochet and to this day I do so to relax. We would spend all day at the park just feeding ducks and fishing. And don’t even get me started on trips to the Dollar Store and Thrift Store. I loved walking through the aisles looking for bargains.
Before I moved out here to California my mother presented me with a song she had written about how much I mean to her and how much she would miss me. It made me cry and even now it brings tears to my eyes. She claims she’s not much of a writer or singer, but it is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.
Although we have our disagreements and we bump heads, I don’t know where I would be without my mother. She is beautiful, intelligent, caring, and thrifty. More importantly, she’s one of my best friends.