Mother Quotes

it was difficult to accept that you couldn't love me in the ways that i wanted you to. i had expectations so in the end i got disappointed. i had seen how you could love others and so it hurt more deeply. i drew you angel wings and tried blurring the bad memories. i know you tried your best. i know you didn't know better. i know you think you were fair. and because i knew all that, i felt even more guilty for needing more from you.  
Mother's Day

Poem by; Christine Vega



Today is a day that I hate.

Today is a day of sorrow and regret

Who knew that this would be your fate?

And who knew pain is all that I would get?

Your father wanted you, and I wanted you more.

Been a long time since you've been gone,

and I wish you were here.

I'm a mommy that makes angels.

That's what everybody always tells me.

Who would you have been?

A mama's boy or a tough guy like your dad?

Every single mother's day I remember you.

Now you'd be in your terrible twos.

Driving mommy and daddy crazy!

But it would be okay,

I'd love you just like I do now.



 
To my absent mother.
To the person who acts like nothing is ever wrong or its everyone else’s fault and is delusions and thinks her children all love her. Being young I thought it was fun to go to your house and getting away from my dad’s girlfriend and being able to go get junk food from Fareway’s across the street and you giving us what we wanted and letting us do what we wanted. But now that I’m older I realized that you only did it to get us out of the house so you could put the drugs first and so we wouldn’t bother you. What got me the most is how we had to leave notes to tell you where we were because we left while you were passed out and going through the drug withdraws. You never really cared about us. You always pawned our stuff for the drugs and got mad when we asked about saying we never played with them and promised us you would get them back, but we never saw any of it again. But I’m glad you left my life, I didn’t have a negative impact in my life while I was turning into an adult. I found who I was without you and I am truly glad. So, thanks for putting the drugs first so I didn’t have you in my life to ruin what good I had.
"A woman who remains connected with her mother via a communication link to convey on a daily or a weekly basis the things about her in-laws members as what they eat, drink and think; normally likes the man of the house to act like a weak mouse before her & so naturally always keeps her married life on the brink of the failure."
~Anuj Somany
Check out my brand new story on Wattpad called:
There's Something Wrong With Dad
 































 
My father has a tattoo that runs from his shoulder to his elbow on his right side; I never thought anything about it. He works, leaves for weeks at a time but comes back with pockets filled with money and bags filled with gold that he auctions off for thousands. I don't know what he does, but I never thought anything about it because he was able to sustain a suitable lifestyle for us. He had moments of anger yes, but he never abused us; he was a loving father. Even after the death of my mother, his caring character helped us move forward, and his idea of moving to a new hometown was for the best of our sanity. However, I could not help but notice the cold poisonous stare he would often give to my sister, and his brief moments of violence that he had trouble controlling. When I watched him beat a robber to an unidentifiable creature, grabbing his gun and continuously shooting him until there was nothing more than brain residue splattered all over the floor, those words in red flashed across my mind; There's something wrong with dad. I love him so much, but I can't help to think that he had something to do with the death of my mother. And I'm scared he's going to do it again. But to one of us.
 

Here's the link: 
https://www.wattpad.com/story/73365844-there%27s-something-wrong-with-dad
 
you look just like your mother

i guess i do carry her tenderness well

you both have the same eyes

cause we are both exhausted

and the hands

we share the same wilting fingers

but that rage your mother doesn't wear that anger

you're right
this rage is the one thing
i get from my father


But there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begin.

                                   —Mitch Albom
” 

i struggle so deeply to understand how someone can pour their entire soul blood and energy into someone without wanting anything in return
— i will have to wait till i'm a mother

I walk through the halls of most peoples  Hell, seing my friends waiting by the library. I wave the wait. I over hear numeros conversations about how this person Is cute or this person Is Beautiful. I walk Hannah, Avery and Mace to there Bus. I hear the same conversations.I start the walk home to my personal hell called Home.Its to hard to escape the conversations of vanity.I think about the conversations I hear,trying to think back to the last time someone called me beautiful, or even remotly pretty. I can't... Because no ones ever thought of me as beautiful, not atleast someone who cares enough to tell me. If My own mother can't look me in the eye and call me beautiful, then who can??

Father, Forgive me
Mother, I love you 
I need you now I should of  protected you

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