A Pink Carnation

A pink carnation, the symble for a mother's undying love. A mother's love is one that no other human being that can give, for they will never have the connection you have with your mother. I know, I know; "But I don't have a mom!" It doesn't matter. The connection you have is in your blood and in your soal, and no foster/step/gaurdian/or -inlaw can duplicate it. I don't have a great mom either. I live with my grandparents. My mother was a druggy and an alcoholic; she did a lot of bad things. I am the eldest of her three children (my brothers: Edward 13 and Joseph 10), and therefore felt it was my job to protect her name. My aunt and grandparents, and truely anyone that knew her, had SUCH a tendincy to speak badly of her. I never could understand why they would speak of her this way, there own blood. I felt sorry for her. I felt that, in some way, she had to be doing something good.
When I turned 13 and she sent a card saying "Happy 10th Birthday" a month late, I gave up on her. I finaly saw the worthless druggy/alcoholic waste of space that everyone else saw. I refused to speak to her or about her, I refused to acknolodge her existance, I basicly disowned her as my mother and a fellow human being. I truely hated her.
But than she got in a realy bad car accident. She was in a car with a man (the driver) and another AA friend. They had just gotten back from getting smoothies.Another car rammed into them. The driver didn't get a scratch on him, but was either going into shock or was just plain a coward becouse he wouldn't help my mom and her friend. The friend was sitting in front of my mom, and she was going into a seizure. My mom was a former nurse, so she knew what to do. She did she had been trained to do, probably saving the womens life. All the while, my mom was loosing a lot of blood. She almost died of blood loss by the time the rescue people got there. They had to cut her and the friend out of the car, but the driver walked out. This made me very mad, becouse they soon after found out he was drunk.While my mom was in the hospital, she refused all pain medication. She knew she would get hooked, so she didn't want any. She was lying on her death bed, and still stayed strong, resisting the pain.She almost died.
I realized than that I could never run out of second chances. I could never give up on her, or anyone else. I could never stop giving away my love, for that was the ultimate crime. My mother has taught me many things by doing all those bad things:
*LOVE everyone and everything, no matter what happens
*DRUGS don't hurt just you, they hurt the people that have to watch you die slowly
*PUSH ON through life, couse you can survive anything
*YOU are not better than ANYONE else, and EVERYONE is worth your help
*BAD things happen, focussing on them will restrain you from seeing the GOOD things
*GOD doesn't deserve your blame, YOU screwed up. Fix it yourself.
This is a poem my mom wrote that I found today:

THIS IS ME: A Rewinding Tape

This is me too many things I’ve

                seen,

For a time from drugs and alcohol

                I was clean.

Right now I feel like a tornado that

                Destroys everything in its path,

Most people have never felt my

                Wrath.

I can be a force to be reckoned

                With,

Showing fake emotions that are

                So stiff.

Life isn’t fun my heart is damaged

                Beyond repair,

Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

Loosing everything doesn’t really

                Matter at all,

What you ask created my downward

                Fall.

Three children I love so dear,

Hurting them was my greatest

                Fear.

No one can save me I just don’t

                Think so,

Too far gone my demons they do

                Not know.

Time is very precious no one can

                Seem to spare,

True friends always at your side

                Are rare.

Looking at the sky I wonder

                When will it all end,

Does God know will an angel

                For me he send?

Why do people say they understand,

Their words are just plain bland.

How can you know what I’m

                Going through,

I am me not you.

Can’t you see I’m slowly dying

                Inside,

Begging God for a way out many

                Times I’ve cried.

It’s too late for me there’s no

                Escape,

Memories haunt me everyday like

                A rewinding tape.

“Dedicated to: my family who thought I was an unfit Mother”