One day, my mother was playing basketball with me and my brother. When it came to sports she had phenomenal luck. Her oldest son Andrew lost the ball and it went into the other side of the court. Looking to make fun of her, her youngest, Justin, yelled to her from the other side of the court saying, “I dare you to shoot it from there!”
Accepting the challenge, my mother threw the ball up as high as she could with all her strength. The ball sailed through the air and it looked like a prayer would have to be said for it to go in the basket. After the ball being in air for a few seconds, I followed it with my eyes, and it went directly in the basket. The net barely moved. It was one of the luckiest and funny shots I have ever seen. I think this is a relevant anecdote because this describes my mother to me. There’s more to her than meets the eye.
My mother, Cynthia Jenkins-Smith, grew up in a small town in California called Mead Valley. She grew up with a sister named Andrea, and a father, Andrew, and mother, Elsie. Her neighbor was her grandmother which was my great grandmother. Family was important to her mother and father, so they believed in living close to each other so no one would be out of reach.
Having a close knit family like this help define my mother as a strong woman and a loving mother. These qualities that she owned would be beneficial to anyone to possess. This reason and many more, is why my mother is the subject of this narrative, and the reason she is so significant to me.
I remember when I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was twelve. It was one of the worst days in my life. I thought I would be able to do anything normal anymore or eat like a normal kid anymore. During my stay in the hospital, my mom was with me everyday. She was telling me that there are worse diseases in the world that I could have contracted, and I should be happy it wasn’t anything worse. At the time, I didn’t quite understand because I...