We've selected the winners of our Sheroes Essay Contest and the winners are:
1st place: Amelia McGuire
2nd place: Brittni Brewer
3rd place: Thyme Nash
Congratulations to our wonderful winners! Today we will be sharing the essay by our 1st place winner, Amelia McGuire. Later this week we will feature the essays from our 2nd and 3rd place winners!
"Little Debbie"
by: Amelia McGuire
She was always the best at telling stories. We’d all gather around in the living room, fire place roaring, and listen to what she called ‘Little Debbie Stories,’ all about her adventures growing up on a farm with a overly stern father, an older brother, and acres of farmland to be hand weeded.
“Once there was a girl with a curl right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good she was very very good, and when she was bad she was horrid.” That’s how every story started out, and they were always full of adventure. Her brother getting bucked off a horse, meeting John Wayne, making mud pies; the stories fascinated me, as I’d sit wide-eyed with wonder. How romantic and beautiful her life seemed, but it really was anything but.
When I was ten years old she had a major stroke, caused by a blood clot in her brain. The words, “Guys, I think there is something wrong with me,” have never been more frightening. I sat at the kitchen table across from her, as half her face refused to respond, her slurred speech screaming a warning call in my ears, and her limp arm hanging by her side. She was poise in the face of horror, strength for her family as she underwent major brain surgery. We rallied around her, never hearing a negative word, as she slowly recovered.
That year we spent the Fourth of July in the hospital, watching through the windows fireworks exploding off in the distance. Her head was bandaged, she wore an eye patch to correct her double vision, but her family was still her focus. She made her children feel loved and treasured, despite her own physical limitations.
Three short years later her husband was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, incurable blood cancer, and her life rocked once more. She was there for him, taking him to doctor’s appointments, moving across the nation to be closer to family, sacrificing her own friends to take care of him. She survived a stem cell and bone marrow transplant right by his side, taking care of him when he was ill and being his emotional foundation.
Besides taking care of her family and working hard, she also had initiative. Having a baby at nineteen tends to put a damper on attending college, and so in her fifties she determined that she was going to become a certified yoga instructor. She took classes, attended seminars, gained hours of practice, and accomplished her goals. At every family event she would rally everyone together to do yoga, sharing with those she loved most her talents.
There is evidence in her body of everything she has endured, survived, and accomplished. The scar across her neck and a droopy eye when she is tired are proof of her fighting spirit and never-give-up attitude. The laugh lines when she smiles from the endless amounts of joy she brought to her eight children. Dirt in her nails and callouses across her hands show the hard work and dedication that she has always given her family. The fatigue at the end of the day is proof she gave it her all, as she always has.
It was her devotion to life, love, and family that made her inspirational. She looked hardship in the face and persevered. It was her love and enjoyment of the everyday moments. It doesn’t take mass recognition or a trophy to be a true hero. Some people called her Debra, Debbie, aunt, sister, yoga instructor, or friend. But to me she will always be so much more. For me, she will always be my hero, known simply as mommy.
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