My mother.
Not only was she a dedicated mother. She was a dedicated nurse. She first married a man named Mr. Belmonte at age 19. Giving birth, and taking care of three children while also working her way through college. While going through medical school, she cooked, cleaned, helped my older half-brothers on anything they needed from homework to teaching them how to ride a bike, and still was able to tuck them in at night.
After finishing off a good marriage turned bad, she met and married my dad a few years later in her early thirties, soon having my twin brother Jake and I. She had a job in home nursing, going from house to house, and taking care of medical issues for patients who couldn't go to the doctors themselves. Either they were too weak, or in a mental state where it was difficult for them to take their medication, or even someone who needed daily shots. My mother did it all.
If you had a boo-boo, she clean and fix it up to stop the blood, and would give you a kiss to stop the tears. She was a grade-A nurse, and an even better mother. She didn't have a terrible life, but she had her fair share of trials, and the fact that she pulled through still as happy and loving as ever proves she's the best. She never missed a stride.
Even though she had a terribly busy schedule, she still knew how to cook the most delicous meals, and give all of her children the attention to feel more then loved. Even when she'd cook food for more then ten people, she's wait patiantly until she was sure everyone had their own plate before she even made a motion to get her own.
She was kind, understanding, talanted, gentle, and self less.
She was my nurse.
She is my hero.
She is my mother.
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