Sandra
My mother gave birth to me at the age of 17. When I was 8, she and my father divorced.
She was on her own, without support from him, but fortunately with the help and love of my grandparents and aunts.
She worked as a daycare teacher in Richmond, an hour away from home, to provide for me.
We helped each other get ready in the mornings: she cooked breakfast and I ironed her clothes.
There were many times that the two ends of a shoestring budget didn't quite meet, but I never went without.
She never spoke ill of my father. She was never mean-spirited.
My mother got into a fist fight for me once. I remember every detail. Do not mess with my mama. She don't play.
She is a 5'1" firecracker, who is truly lovely until you cross her.
My mother never missed an activity, play, sporting event, award ceremony, presentation or any event I was involved in. Ever.
Our home was always open to friends. To this day, my mother maintains relationships with many of my childhood friends.
In what can only be described as the stupidity of a teenager, I chose to live with my father for a year and left my mother. I thought the grass would be greener and life would be easier with more money. I was wrong. When I came to my senses and called my mother to come get me, her only response was "Pack your shit, I'm on my way."
I will never forgive myself for hurting her that way, but she forgave me without question.
When I was away at college and got very sick, she made an hour drive in 36 minutes to come and get me.
My mother would not let me get a tattoo until I turned 18. Once I did, and immediately got a tattoo, she told me how beautiful it was.
My mother never said "I told you so" when I didn't listen to her and married a man just like my father. She could have, but didn't. She held me in her lap when I showed up at her work and told her I was getting a divorce.
She has always supported my every endeavor. She has been my biggest cheerleader, whistling her ear-splitting whistle for all the world to hear.
She has been present for all three of my births, even my surrogate babies.
My mother has helped me to be my true self, at all times. She has brought me down from my high horse when I needed it and pulled me up from despair when I couldn't do it on my own.
My mother has been my inspiration, my role model, my #momgoals.
She taught me to cook, to drive, to balance a checkbook, to grocery shop, to manage a household, to help deliver a baby cow, to throw a birthday party, to stand up for myself, to throw a punch properly.
Sandra Darlene Rodriguez Bridgeman, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Happy Mother's Day.
She was on her own, without support from him, but fortunately with the help and love of my grandparents and aunts.
She worked as a daycare teacher in Richmond, an hour away from home, to provide for me.
We helped each other get ready in the mornings: she cooked breakfast and I ironed her clothes.
There were many times that the two ends of a shoestring budget didn't quite meet, but I never went without.
She never spoke ill of my father. She was never mean-spirited.
My mother got into a fist fight for me once. I remember every detail. Do not mess with my mama. She don't play.
She is a 5'1" firecracker, who is truly lovely until you cross her.
My mother never missed an activity, play, sporting event, award ceremony, presentation or any event I was involved in. Ever.
Our home was always open to friends. To this day, my mother maintains relationships with many of my childhood friends.
In what can only be described as the stupidity of a teenager, I chose to live with my father for a year and left my mother. I thought the grass would be greener and life would be easier with more money. I was wrong. When I came to my senses and called my mother to come get me, her only response was "Pack your shit, I'm on my way."
I will never forgive myself for hurting her that way, but she forgave me without question.
When I was away at college and got very sick, she made an hour drive in 36 minutes to come and get me.
My mother would not let me get a tattoo until I turned 18. Once I did, and immediately got a tattoo, she told me how beautiful it was.
My mother never said "I told you so" when I didn't listen to her and married a man just like my father. She could have, but didn't. She held me in her lap when I showed up at her work and told her I was getting a divorce.
She has always supported my every endeavor. She has been my biggest cheerleader, whistling her ear-splitting whistle for all the world to hear.
She has been present for all three of my births, even my surrogate babies.
My mother has helped me to be my true self, at all times. She has brought me down from my high horse when I needed it and pulled me up from despair when I couldn't do it on my own.
My mother has been my inspiration, my role model, my #momgoals.
She taught me to cook, to drive, to balance a checkbook, to grocery shop, to manage a household, to help deliver a baby cow, to throw a birthday party, to stand up for myself, to throw a punch properly.
Sandra Darlene Rodriguez Bridgeman, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Happy Mother's Day.
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