#moth

Since Mom wasn't exactly the most useful person in the world, one lesson I learned at an early age was how to get things done, and this was a source of both amazement and concern for Mom, who considered my behavior unladylike but also counted on me. "I never knew a girl to have such gumption," she'd say. "But I'm not too sure it's a good thing. ↗

— Jeannette Walls

#daughter #determination #mixed-feelings #mother #strong-willed-child

I didn't get to grow up and pull away from her and bitch about her with my friends and confront her about the things I'd wished she'd done differently and then get older and understand that she had done the best she could and realize that what she had done was pretty damn good and take her fully back into my arms again. Her death had obliterated that. It had obliterated me. It had cut me short at the very heigh of my youthful arrogance. It had forced me to instantly grow up and forgive her every motherly fault at the same time that it kept me forever a child, my life both ended and begun in that premature place where we'd left off. She was my mother, but I was motherless. I was trapped by her, but utterly alone. She would always be the empty bowl that no one could full. I'd have to fill it myself again and again and again. ↗

— Cheryl Strayed

#anger-at-losing-a-mother #grieving-the-loss-of-a-mother #loosing-your-mother-too-young #losing-a-mother #anger

Since I’ve been home I’ve been trying hard to mend my relationship with my mother. Asking her to do things for me instead of brushing aside any offer of help, as I did for years out of anger. Letting her handle all the money I won. Returning her hugs instead of tolerating them. My time in the arena made me realize how I needed to stop punishing her for something she couldn’t help, specifically the crushing depression she fell into after my father’s death. Because sometimes things happen to people and they’re not equipped to deal with them. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#loss #mother-daughter #anger

They're horrible little creatures. All snot and smelly feet and pestering questions." "Then why did you go into teaching?" "It was either that or sit at home with Mother all day. I picked the lesser of two evils. ↗

— Brian Francis

#mother-in-law #relationships #teaching #home

You may think that your only choices are to swallow your anger or throw it in someone's face. But there is a third option; you can just let it go. And only when you do that is it really gone, and you can move forward. ↗

— Ted Mosby

#attitude #choice #how-i-met-your-mother #hurt #let-go

The art of rap is deceptive. It seems so straightforward and personal and real that people read it completely literally, as raw testimony or autobiography. And sometimes the words we use, nigga, bitch, motherfucker, and the violence of the images overwhelms some listeners. It's all white noise to them till they hear a bitch or a nigga and then they run off yelling "See!" and feel vindicated in their narrow conception of what the music is about. ↗

— Jay-Z

#motherfucker #nigga #nigger #rap #art

A mother has far greater influence on her children than anyone else, and she must realize that every word she speaks, every act, every response, her attitude, even her appearance and manner of dress affect the lives of her children and the whole family. It is while the child is in the home that he gains from his mother the attitudes, hopes, and beliefs that will determine the kind of life he will live and the contribution he will make to society. ↗

— N. Eldon Tanner

#attitude

Whatever life brings, we'll share," she says, and "I can do no more than the best I can. ↗

— Carol Emshwiller

#motherhood #attitude

You're so beautiful," said Alice. "I'm afraid of looking at you and not knowing who you are." "I think that even if you don't know who I am someday, you'll still know that I love you." "What if I see you, and I don't know that you're my daughter, and I don't know that you love me?" "Then, I'll tell you that I do, and you'll believe me. ↗

— Lisa Genova

#early-onset-alzheimer-s #mother-daughter #women #beauty

Because she did not look behind, September did not see the smoky-glass casket close itself primly up again. She did not see it bend in half until it cracked, and Death hop up again, quite well, quite awake, and quite small once more. She certainly did not see Death stand on her tiptoes and blow a kiss after her, a kiss that rushed through all the frosted leaves of the autumnal forest, but could not quite catch a child running as fast as she could. As all mothers know, children travel faster than kisses. The speed of kisses is, in fact, what Doctor Fallow would call a cosmic constant. The speed of children has no limits. ↗

— Catherynne M. Valente

#kisses #mothers #death