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Tag archive for: moms

The Lanyard

Posted in luckychik13

I have always processed my emotions through my writing. Recently in my creative writing class we read the poem The Lanyard by Billy Collins. The piece below is my response to the poem.   A difficult truth to face is that there is virtually nothing we can give to our mothers that will suitably recompense them for all they have done for us. No lanyard, no plaster of Paris handprint, no coupon book of hugs is ever equal to all that our mothers do for us. I’m not saying that our mothers don’t appreciate these gifts – they do. But…

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Working Moms

Posted in olechik27

Working mom or stay at home mom – That title probably elicits some kind of feeling for most of us, mother or not. For me it is a mixture of guilt, inadequacy and anxiety. Like I need one more thing to help me feel that way… I think if you are a mom, you are a working mom. Period. Some of us stay at home and some of us go outside of our home. There are good and not so good in both arenas. Each has its own ups and downs. Both types of mom are EQUALLY important to our…

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The Oath

Posted in La Segunda Chica

When I was in junior high I remember being with my mom and grandma as my grandma went on, in detail, about the various ailments she and her friends suffered from.  When we were alone, my mom turned to me and pleaded, “Please tell me if I ever start doing that.”  I distinctly remember laughing and reassuring her that she would never act like Grandma.  They were polar opposites. Fast forward thirty-five years, and as I prepared Thanksgiving dinner listening to my mom go on, in detail, about the various ailments she and her friends suffer from (and this isn’t…

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Come As You Are

Posted in FreedomChik18

We both had swollen eyes still glistening in grief as I walked into the coffee shop that morning. My feet felt as heavy as my heart. She moved her arms around my waist with an effort that seemed to consume what little energy she had left, planted her head against my chest, and whimpered out, “My Mom is gone.” My heart arrested. Each sob against my chest felt like defibrillator pads being charged with a higher frequency of electricity, delivering shocks against my heart’s wall to convert it from this dying, quivering rhythm, into a normal one. I stood, waiting…

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