Family / Lessons / Life / Personal / photograph / photography / short story



(1) The process of increasing in size. (2) The process of maturing mentally.

For the majority of my life I have been one of the only girls “growing” in my family besides my mother who had already reached her maximum height around the age of twelve and my grandmother who instead of growing, seemed to remain ageless. It wasn’t until September that all of that changed. My mothers stomach began to develop. And on April 9th 2009 she gave birth.

For many years I had only experienced the mother-daughter relationship between my mother and myself. Now I see something different. I see my mother cuddling my sister. Singing her goofy kid songs until she falls asleep. I watch my mom sleep with her–watch her rest my sister on my fathers side of the bed, until she’s fast asleep and my dad no longer has a place to rest. My mother has patience now–patience I never experienced her have with me.

As a teen I was mischievous, staying out after hours. Spending nights at friends houses whose parents were neglectful and allowed us to leave their home whenever we felt necessary. That was a time in my life where I could of cared less about what my mother thought. But now things have changed. I watch her with this young child and I wonder–was she this same woman with me? This same mother? Did she cuddle me in bed until I slept? Until my eyes were closed shut and I was dreaming?

Maybe her yelling was good.

I watch my sister now and wish for her to be good. For her not to go through things I went through and even if she is a young-dumb-teenager, that she’ll learn the way I did. I want her to be able to grow–to be able to stand on her two adult feet, and be proud of herself.


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