L

L

My mother has no middle name. Just a letter. L. Jennifer L Greenberg. She is an incredibly strong woman. She would never admit it, but her life has been difficult. As a child and an adolescent, she was overshadowed by two sisters whose behaviour demanded the attention of her parents -- my mother's sweetness and responsible nature led to something like neglect.

But she would never say any of this, and if she heard me say it, she would forcefully deny it. She is a beautiful, strong, vivacious woman. She is truly, deeply in love with my father, is in the process of raising four children, has successfully managed to balance her role as a dedicated and loving mother with her career as a nutritionist, and shares her love unconditionally. She has also, on top of all her responsibilities, become the care-giver of my Alzheimer's-afflicted grandmother. This disease renders my mother's mother difficult and often unkind, but my mother unfailingly greets her with a smile, and a kiss.

My mother is my hero for her unwavering dedication to her children, her husband, her friends, her happiness, and the happiness and well-being of those around her. The pictures in my postcard, which are of my mother, smiling and multi-faceted, surrounded by her husband, children, and devoted shadow of a dog, as well as the pictures relating to her occupation, her trouble with her sisters, and the heavy weight that Alzheimer's places upon her mind, are meant to represent the traits of strength demonstrated by my mother, which make her a hero to me. 

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