Mother



Everyone called my mother weak and frail. They said she was useless and could not raise Her children on her own. Not when all she Ever did was sit by the window and Waste all her days waiting for my father.

She could only barely read and write and Her cooking and cleaning were just sub par. She was the epitome of a low Classed fisherman's daughter without a brain, In no position to be a mother.

But she gave it her all and did raise us. She could not read or write but did her best To teach me what she knew and fill me with The desire to learn more on my own When she was done and could teach me no more. Yes, her cooking and cleaning were sub par, But she kept everything to our liking And fed us off her plate when food was short.

Her heart was broken and she was alone But she proved to me how strong a woman Could be. How despite everyone being Against her, she ignored them and pushed on. She loved when they gave her no reason to.

My mother was not weak. Nor was she frail. She was just a woman doing her best.