Mother

For every mother, mothering when all else fails, and life doesn’t give you the flowers you deserve. A photo collage of the mother who mothered me, and is still trying her best to do so to this day. In the photo of her and the baby, she is holding my baby cousin Caison, a few weeks after his birth (he is almost nine years old now). My mother’s name is Angela; everyone calls her Angie or “Lil Red Louise.” a job that pays withkisses, hugs, arguments, giggles, spring cleaning, cooking, exhaustion, notenough help, cat naps, no privacy, forever bonds,teething, terrible twos, teenage antics, too muchnoise, and drama-filled twenties.yet, you’ve never wantedto be unemployed. there is no way we couldever thank you enough forlife, unconditional love, and safety. you are the first person whoprotected us from theworld with your body asan enclosure for ourgrowth. we basked inyour presence unknowingly yet knowingly. our first home—our way of breathingand forming into being.how you manage to…