Personal Narrative: My Hispanic Mother

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It is almost two in the morning, and we still have not been able to see her. Five days have passed by, and the presence of my mother was non-existent. School is out for the weekend; time to have fun and mess around and the sight of her brings a smile to our faces. The days fly by fast, and she goes missing once again. My mother, a successful and well-known doctor who had a promising future in medicine, dangerously decided to leave everything behind, along with my father, and move to the country that promised the “American Dream.” Growing up in a Mexican environment proved tough at times, ranging from the hilarious abuelita cussing in Spanish to getting a beating by la chancla. My Hispanic mother, as tough and strict as she was, had the most

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