Memoir of My Mother

It seemed like a normal day when I entered Mrs. A’s AP Language and Composition class, but little did I know that she was going to assign a very important project that was going to take forever. I took my seat and wrote down what was on the board. Then I sat patiently and waited for Mrs. A to come explain what we were doing today. When the tardy bell rang, Mrs. A glided into the room and gave us all a stack of papers. She then proceeded to discuss our upcoming assignment, a memoir. As she explained the very important assignment, I wondered whom I would write about. No one really came to mind to write about and I thought for sure I would never be able to get this thing done on time. I finally decided that I would write in on my mother, Kari Jenson. I knew I would probably put the project off until the very end and do it the weekend before even though it would get on my mom’s nerves. Putting work off was just how I did everything, it worked for me. When I arrived home from school that day, I told mom about the project. I told her I would most likely write it about her and she was overjoyed.

My mother, Kari Jenson, is one of the most important people in my life. She gave birth to me, helped me learn to walk and so many other things that I find amazing. I cannot begin to fathom how much patience she had to have to deal with me all the time as a child. I’m sure she still has to have patience to deal with me now, but I imagine it was a lot more back then. She has molded me into the person I am today and I wouldn’t want it to be any different. She has always been supportive of everything I have tried from basketball to skateboarding and from football to paintball. Even though there are some things that I do she doesn’t like she usu...

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...that was the best I could mange at the time. She would like to try to teach me how to not procrastinate but I don’t think that will ever happen. There is no fun in writing anything unless you are doing it last minute at twelve in the morning.

I am very grateful that she helped me how to ride a bike. My first bike was a blue Schwin. I loved that bike from the time it had training wheels to the time I got a new one. We started with the bike in the bike yard and mom would run either beside or behind me holding on and helping me keep my balance. When she let go I would fall and gets all kind of bruises then she would be mad that she let and I got hurt because of it. I eventually got better and we moved out to the street in front of the house, I loved how it felt to ride the bike on the pavement.

More importantly, I liked the sense of freedom that the bike gave me.