My Mother is My Hero

My mother, Mary P., married my dad in 1958 when she was 18. Starting with me in 1959, she had 5 children in 5 years. Lori, baby #4, died at birth from spina bifida. The next year Billy was born, also with spina bifida and paralyzed from the waist down. Mother was 24 years old, four children, one with major health concerns--how did she do it??
Billy required numerous hospitalizations and surgeries, attention beyond the usual. Mother worked off and on over the years, and my dad often worked more than one job--so the bulk of the child care fell upon her even when she was employed. But I never felt like I was getting the short end of the deal. I remember getting off the school bus and coming into the house to a piece of her apple crisp, warm from the oven. We had birthday parties and sleepovers and all the usual kid things. I know now that those things didn't just "happen" by themselves. She made them happen, despite probably being exhausted much of the time.
She lost my dad when she was 46 and my brother eight years later. Somehow she went on from those tragedies and was still the mother I'd always known--loving, giving, there when we needed her. My life has been so easy compared to hers, and I just hope I've inherited her strength. The only thing that makes her seem old to me now is that she has an almost-50-year-old kid!!
She gave me a picture of herself taken when she was 19 and pregnant with me. I love that picture--her hair is vivid red, and she looks innocent and open to what life has in store. When I look at her now, I see that the years have changed her appearance, but her green eyes--just like mine--are the same. Wiser, but with the expectant look that more is yet to come.