Love Essay: A Motherly Type Of Love

A Motherly Type of Love Since the day my father was killed almost eight years ago, my life took a turn for the worst. Quickly, my mother became very depressed. She surrounded herself with bad company and became severely addicted to cocaine. This certainly made life difficult for my brother, my sister, and I. She stopped doing the things that mothers are supposed to do like cleaning, cooking, and laundry. I was young at the time, but I began to train myself to do these tasks. Before long, I could cook a nice dinner for four in only half an hour, as well as complete up to three loads of laundry a day. My mother was still there, physically at least, but she was never mentally present. She mostly slept throughout the evenings, after we got home from school. She was never awake long enough to help my siblings and I with our homework. She was never alert enough to offer advice on how to deal with those “friends” of mine who borrowed my things and always forgot to return them. She lacked some of the most important qualities of a mother. I began to question if she should even be considered a mother at all. If my mother was not being a mother, then how in the world did my siblings ever survive? Why were child protective services never brought in to deal with the matter? My mother was not fulfilling her roles, but someone in the household was

In the beginning, the mother and child are one body. The umbilical cord is cut, and the child becomes its own person. From that moment on, the connection can only be emotional. It was not until my late teen years that I was able to make that special connection with my mother. Nonetheless, it had a positive impact on her mental and emotional stability, which in effect had a positive impact on my own mental and emotional stability. She was able to remove the large mass I had been carrying for so many years, and with great effort, eventually I was able to help her overcome her