Character Sketch

Why my Head is High
“I want to help others and a lot of people at the nursing homes don’t have family come to visit them.” I watched as my mother’s generous, almond colored eyes gleamed in the light. Her blazing red, shoulder length hair showed off her bright teeth and smile. She sat in our car and swayed back and forth to the music, like a palm tree at the beach. As we got out to go inside she didn’t even think twice or feel a morsel of laziness. She opened the door for Gary, the other volunteer, who is tall and slender and limps when he walks. Once inside the building, we walked into a small room, filled with tables and a television. Sunshine poured down through the windows, and seemed to singsong, “Good morning.” Medicine and hospital whiffs rushed up my nose. Ladies and men sat in chairs, while some were in different types that allowed them to roll around. A few wheezed ferociously, like a hibernating bear, their mouths open and tongues hanging out. Many mouthed lyrics to the song, releasing cooing sounds, like a newborn baby.I could see their eyes, faded with age like a person’s favorite shirt washed too many times. The nursing home residents’ wrinkled faces altered from alert to excited as we walked in. Toothless smiles were shown as my mother handed out packets of lyrics, filled with church gospels. “Amazing Grace…” My mother’s high-pitched, squeaky voice filled the room. I imagined it would belong to a mouse, if mice were able to speak.I remember my mom saying, “It makes me feel good, just to see them smile. I realized it doesn’t always have to be about me. I could make a difference in someone’s life!” I could now see what she meant as I found myself singing along with people I had never even met, until that day, with pure joy. People were rocking back and forth, as if they were sitting upon a church pew.“How does she do this?” I wondered. How does she have that ability to brighten up someone’s day like that? She works so hard, for the five days of the week, caring and nurturing babies as if she were their mother. Every time I’m feeling down she’s always right by my side asking what’s wrong. You could tell she cares enough for the answer, once the tears trail down she is always my shoulder to cry on. I find myself walking alone sometimes thinking how big a loser I am and how I could have done better if I didn’t fail so much. Then my mom’s famous line appears in the back of my mind, “Keep your head up high.”I never hear her complain. She wakes up cheerful and in a good mood, like a cheerleader rooting for the football team to win. Being a single parent, she has to work twice as hard to take care of me. “I never regretted having you at twenty-four years old. I never would have given you away.” Hearing this is music to my ears. It brings a smile to my face and reminds me how special I really am to have someone as dependable and hardworking as my mom. I keep following her around the nursing home, with my head up high.