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My first birth brought a whole new perspective. I was able to hold him, brush his tears, and watch his first home run. This allowed for me to see that I was not the one who was cheated, but instead my mother. She was unable to share these moments due to rheumatoid arthritis. Rheumatoid arthritis cheated her.

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When my teachers would give handouts, mine would end up in the trash by the end of the day. I felt robbed. Everyone else's mothers could interact with their daughter's and son's lives. For me, it was different.

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The day my mother walked me to kindergarten is one I will never ever forget. The sun was warm, and my hand was cradled in hers.

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I never understood why Connie was unimpressed with the lasagna that her mom made for supper. I could only dream of having  a bite of something that smelled delicious. I was used to cold macaroni and cheese my siblings would leave for me, or I'd make frozen hamburger patties, fish sticks or even just a can of soup.