Essay Writing On My Mother

The doctor said to me not considering that I was a minor and my mother’s daughter, “Her disease is very advanced and we don’t think she will live longer than a year.” With this devastating news, I did not know what to do.I thought to myself that perhaps I should cry, or try to forget and take care of her as best I could and make her laugh to ease her pain.

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My mother’s enthusiasm for learning is most apparent in travel.

I was nine years old when my family visited Greece.

She looks after me and other members of the family. She is my first teacher because at first, she taught me writing and reading. Every day she gets up very early in the morning, says the prayer and reads the Quran.

She becomes very happy when I cut a good figure in the examination. She always teaches us to be honest, truthful and punctual.

Every night for three weeks before the trip, my older brother Peter and I sat with my mother on her bed reading Greek myths and taking notes on the Greek Gods.

Despite the fact that we were traveling with fourteen-month-old twins, we managed to be at each ruin when the site opened at sunrise.

I was the only one there with her, but I did not allow her to convince me to take her home.

I told her in Spanish, “Mom, let’s wait so that we can get this over with and know what’s going on with you.

She seemed extremely exhausted; her eyes were half-closed and yellow, and she placed her elbow on the armchair, resting her head on her palm.

I remember it was crowded and the wait was long, so she wanted to leave.

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