You really want to know who/what my mother wanted me to be? Here she is. She happens to be a cousin of mine. No, actually my mother wanted me to be BETTER than her. That is, more titles and accomplishments than

Marta Sotomayor

So she could look down her nose at my aunt and the rest of her family, of course.

Who I really am?
1. Mother
2. Wife
3. Grandmother
4. Friend

All this is wrapped up in a nurturing blanket but I'm about as opinionated as Marta but have a stronger sense of values. She had one child, just so she could say she'd had one. I had three of my own and rasied a step-son as if I'd born him.

None of my kids ended up smokers, drug addicts, drunks or in jail. All of the 7 grandkids that know me, adore me. I'll be working on the 2 that don't know me yet this coming week.

Marta has been married three times but didn't take any of her husbands' last names. I cling to my present husband's name as if it's my life.

I'm somewhat of an artist. If I only was motivated enough to take some classes I could call myself "artist." I'm a good writer and have loads of experience to tell. My heart is huge and tender, especially for children. It was from the time I was less than five yrs old. My heart is equally as big and tender for animals and all living things.

My mother would have me give all this up for what Marta had. Not me!! Marta has "it" in her head, I have "it" in my heart. I prefer that much more! But my mother never let me forget that "You didn't let me make out of you what I wanted." She never knew that I was already "made." GOD had made me and continued His work in me. It was up to my mother to help it along, not try to distroy it.

She never trusted me out of her sight. I was always trustworthy.

She thought the worst of me; *****, drinker, drug user. I wasn't any of them.

She thought I "put on an act" when my husband and I got married in our back yard. The man wasn't a minister therefore it was a farce. It was as legal as her civil marriage, but according to her, the man was just a friend that was willing to go along with the farce.

She wasn't the mother I would have chosen. She made a boatload of mistakes raising me, but she did the best she could. I love her and I forgive her. I'm glad of who and what I am even if she wasn't. I like me!