My Mother Essay -- Descriptive Essay Examples, Observation

My Mother       When I was young, I pull a picture of my suffer. It was her standing in a yard with a house in the background.  It wasnt our house, and my mother looked the likes of anyone but herself.  Dressed just in green, with green hair and a green expression on her green face, she stood in front of a green two-story house ring by a green landscape.  Green was her favorite color, and I precious to actualize a surprise out of the drawing for her.       My mother was a god to me in those days, and in my eyes she could do no wrong.  I think she understood this, and in turn she lavished attention on me like I was a princess in my take in little world whose wishes were to be carried out no matter the cost.  We were close, too, and not a day went by when I did not divulge some sort of secret cognition to my mom.        My mother was a game show contestant also, answering limitless questions w ith the infinite patience that only an experienced mom give the sack possess.  Her calculate for a satisfying answer was a flash of comprehension in my tiny, bright eyes and a hesitant Oh as I caught on.  It seemed to strain my mother just as happy to pass on the age- honest-to-goodness knowledge of why the sky is blue as it made me to accept of it.  My undying love for her at that age seemed to motivate her to new highschool of mom-hood, as she constantly fought battles of her own with my father (who she divorced when I was four), and with her own shortcomings.        I also remember my mother as beautiful.  She had dark hair-the engaging you run your fingers through just to feel how soft it is-and it always smel... ...   I like to believe that Ive accepted my self-induced isolation from her with grace, but I essential admit that I do hold the hope of bridging the gap mingled with my mother and I.  I also hold th e hope of amending myself for all the quantify Ive knowingly and purposefully hurt her.  Although she is not a god, as I originally assumed, she is a good woman.  She has raised me, sheltered me, and loved me for all over seventeen years without asking for more than casual chores in return.  I believe that the greatest compliment I could ever give my mother is to grow up to be exactly what she wants me to be.  I want to make her happy.  My gift to her will be my success in life, so that when shes old and gray, and shes knitting me a hideous sweater in her creaky rocking chair, she can sigh, and mumble to herself, Wow, it was worth it.