My grandpa was the smartest man I've ever known. He tried to educate me on many things. One of them was the stock market. I always half listened to him. I never thought I was smart enough to understand the stock market so I never tried. I guess he thought I was smart enough or he wouldn't have wasted his time.
My grandpa helped raise me. He taught me values. He put me through college. He gave my mom and I a condo to live in, in a nice neighborhood in the best school district. He was serious but could still tell the funniest stories you'd ever hear. He spent his whole life doing for others. He quit school and went to work to help raise his 6 brothers and sisters when his father abandoned the family.
Every day I got home from elementary school, my grandpa was there to get me. So I didn't have to go to daycare until my mom got off work. That's what a grandparent should be. That's the kind of grandparent I will be.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
temper tantrum
What hurts the most
My mom is gone.
That's what hurts the most. More than the others. I have these women, they offer motherly advice, motherly support, motherly hugs. They love me. But they have their real children, and I'm not one of them. As much as I want to be, I'm not. I'm 26 years old and I want to throw a temper tantrum on the floor screaming "I want my mommy!"
From the moment I wake up in the morning until the moment I fall asleep at night I want my mom. The only way I can cope with these feelings is to be a mom myself.
When I was 3, my mom went on a date with my future stepfather Charlie. We lived with my grandparents then. My mom and Charlie were walking out the door and I was screaming, screaming, screaming. My grandma was holding me. Still feel the hyperventilation. They would be back in a few short hours, but when you are that young you have no self control or concept of time. All you know is that the one person you trust most is leaving without you.
My mom is gone.
That's what hurts the most. More than the others. I have these women, they offer motherly advice, motherly support, motherly hugs. They love me. But they have their real children, and I'm not one of them. As much as I want to be, I'm not. I'm 26 years old and I want to throw a temper tantrum on the floor screaming "I want my mommy!"
From the moment I wake up in the morning until the moment I fall asleep at night I want my mom. The only way I can cope with these feelings is to be a mom myself.
When I was 3, my mom went on a date with my future stepfather Charlie. We lived with my grandparents then. My mom and Charlie were walking out the door and I was screaming, screaming, screaming. My grandma was holding me. Still feel the hyperventilation. They would be back in a few short hours, but when you are that young you have no self control or concept of time. All you know is that the one person you trust most is leaving without you.
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