by Bryanna from Blue Sky
Wendy was born in Huron, South Dakota in the '60s. At a young age, her mother committed suicide and she was forced into many foster homes, bounced around like a rag doll. She was constantly running, and constantly out of contact with her brothers and sisters. It took her almost twenty years to get back in touch with her siblings, but to this day she's been in contact and stayed in contact with a few.
What makes a woman a woman in my opinion is giving life to others: Child birth. Wendy had the experience once, then decided to repeat it three more times. Her children are separated by twenty two months in between two sets. My older siblings, Lee and Tanya, are separated by that time frame and Tacia and Bryanna (Me) are separated by twenty two months. My mother did a great job raising us, and I'm not saying we're perfect but she did the best she could have done and I'm proud of her for that.
Before I was born, my mother was stationed at Robins Air Force base for 13 years. Well, maybe not that exact location but that's where most of her time in the air force was spent. She was at home with children, (after I was born) while my father was in Desert Storm. The only reason I remember any of this was because my mother wanted my ears pierced so bad, but my father wouldn't allow it. So while he was off in the war, she decided "Hey, lets get her ears pierced now." My father had a hay day when he came home and saw the diamond studs in my itty bitty baby ears. Wendy loved the air force, and she gave it all up to care for her children.
When I was in the eighth grade I remember that I had just been in the hospital for severe pneumonia. My mother had gotten sick taking care of me and she, like me, hates doctors and has to be on her death bed before going to one. My father ended up having to carry her to the car to go into the doctors. She was diagnosed with Septic Shock and her heart stopped beating. They recovered it! Don't worry, she's still with us today. But she had to get surgeries done and was in the Intensive Care Unit for quite some time. I remember coming to see her every afternoon after i got out of school, wandering around the halls till I got to her room. I didn't want to go in and see if she'd become worse or gotten better. On the last day of school I was called to the office and told by the doctors that my mother was coming home.
She isn't the type of hero many people would think of twice but she is mine. She's devoted her life, her time, her energy and her heart to her family. She's overcome death and the desire to die. She's strong for all of us and she's done
the best she could. She's my lighthouse, she's my hero.
Page created on 10/6/2007 4:38:03 PM
Last edited 10/6/2007 4:38:03 PM
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