Immigrant Mother

I stand in awe of the woman who is my mother
I stand in wonder at this immigrant woman who left her family behind
Who followed her husband to new pastures, to start a fresh.
She had no choice but to adjust, to adapt, to get on with it.
She was the traditional wife where her home was her life.
She managed with less, she did without, she never complained.
She gave birth to her 7 children, by celebrating and carrying the news to her own mother
On the phone, via post, or a friend visiting back home.
This immigrant woman stood tall and proud
Today she is the bond that ties me to the country of her birth
To the place where it all began
Today she is my backbone and I am look up to her
In more ways that I can imagine