mothers

When Jack Burns needed to hold his mother's hand, his fingers could see in the dark.

If I had still been an immortal, I might have flirted with her myself. But I was now a sixteen-year-old boy. My mortal form was working its way upon my state of mind. I saw Sally Jackson as a mom__ fact that both consternated and embarrassed me. I thought about how long it had been since I had called my own mother. I should probably take her to lunch when I got back to Olympus.

Bryar Kosala just likes helping people, and is good at running things, and when invited to become the world__ Mom she said, __ure.

That's your mom, right?" Pathik smiled. "She looks nicer than she did when she was dragging you away the other night.

She was a monster, but she was my monster.

Blessed is a mother that would give up part of her soul for her children's happiness.

But mothers lie. It's in the job description.

Mother was a beautiful young woman; the house was too plain, too small to contain her. I watched her; for the first time I understood that she had an inner life that didn't have anything to do with me or my brothers and sisters.

How much I love my mom cannot be measured in words, it's just too much and too hard to describe.

My mother is not evil, Faith reminded herself. She is just a perfectly sensible snake, protecting her eggs and making her way in the world as best she can.

I've never begged. not for anything... except my mother's love.And that was a useless waste of time.

Mama took me in her arms and held me tight. Her embrace was hot and she smelled like sweat, dust, and grease, but I wanted her. I wanted to crawl inside her mind to find that place that let her smile and sing through the worst dust storms. If I had to be crazy, I wanted my mama's kind of crazy, because she was never afraid.

You count the hours you could have spent with your mother, it's a lifetime in itself.

Have we ever wondered a mothers silent cries? Her struggles, her fears and her worries? Do we ever have time for this in our busy lives? Have we ever thought of the sacrifices she has done in order to make our lives happier, and her dreams cut short to make our dreams come true?

Was it possible this one would be a son too? She hoped so, but not because she favored men. Her husband modeled the seriousness, the stoicism, that she hoped her sons would inherit, but she had nothing to teach a daughter. She could teach her to dream__ay, to be a painter, as she herself had been trained__nd then teach her to let it go. Teach her to cloister herself in dark hallways, admiring how the light fell through the rice-paper doors while knowing that there was no point in putting it on canvas.

Is Lisa going to the prom?'I shelved my worries for the moment. 'I don't know, Mom. We don't talk about the You-Know-What. We made a pact.'You could go together, if you didn't want to mess with dates and things.'I don't want to mess with the prom at all, Mom.'She ignored me, placidly eating popcorn, piece by piece.'Some girls in my high school class did that and had a wonderful time. They weren't lesbians or anything. Not that it would matter if they were.'That's nice, Mom. I'm glad you're so open-minded.' I grabbed my Coke and the popcorn bowl and headed for the stairs, because I could go my whole life without ever hearing my mother talk about lesbians again.Maybe you could take Justin to the prom,' she called after me, laughter in her voice. 'He is such a hottie.'Shoot me now.

Common sense. Mothers are the last riddle, the worst horror, the only consolation.

Mothers, I believe, intoxicate us. We idolize them and take them for granted. We hate them and blame them and exalt them more thoroughly than anyone else in our lives. We sift through the evidence of their love, reassure ourselves of their affection and its biological genesis. We can steal and lie and leave and they will love us.