As a child, I idolized her... I wanted to be her so bad. She was determined and hard-working... Life hadn't always been kind to her and she's far from perfect. Despite that, she did everything in her power to keep me safe and happy. Regardless of her imperfections, she's my mom and I love her. It doesn't matter if we don't get along sometimes because, at the end of the day, I'm always there for her when she needs me. No matter what. The first seven years were the worst for her. In my opinion, anyway... She'll probably say that my teen years are the worst, and while I'm inclined to agree, she's been through most of her hardships in my early childhood. Our time together was limited then... I was in school and she was working most of the day. Due to my lack of a father figure, of course, she had to learn to be both mom and dad. My father had left the day after I was born and left my mom with no emotional or financial support to help raise the daughter they created together. At least she had her family to fall back on for support. When she couldn't be with me on most days, I'd be with my grandma or someone else she trusted both of our lives with. Our schedules were very off but we always found time to be together. She used to work from 1 p.m. to 2 a.m. and that's what always scared me the most... I was always afraid that she would leave for work one day and never come back... That I would drive her away. I used to fall asleep on the couch or on her bunk in our room to make sure that she came home. I knew she would because she always woke me up. Most nights, she came home with McDonald's for the both of us because she knew I would be there waiting for her. After we ate and talked about our days, we would go back to sleep in our shared room in my grandma's house. Then I'd wake up at 5:30 to spend some time with my grandma while she was drinking her coffee and reading the newspaper before going to school with her. By the time I got home, my mom was already gone for work and I had to try to keep myself from worrying about her coming home. On her days off and whenever she could, she would take me to school, let me get breakfast from somewhere on the drive there, and pick me up before going shopping in Kapolei. If I could put all that love I have for her into words, I would. Unfortunately, nothing can even begin to describe just how deep my love goes for her. If I could, I would rip out my own heart to fix the broken pieces in hers. I would gladly sacrifice my own happiness to see her smile, even if it's not me she's smiling at. I take the brunt of her anger when she needs an outlet because all of that pent-up frustration wouldn't do anyone any good if she didn't get it out. I would give anything for my half-sister to see my mother the same way I used to see her.