Our television set was in the bedroom. I can picture my mother fast asleep, exhausted from driving my brothers around. I can picture the Maple Leafs playing the Canadiens. One or the other would always be on the CBC on Saturday night.
Mark Zuckerberg needs no introduction these days, what with all the magazine covers and morning news shows. My mother knows who he is now, and my mother can hardly turn on a computer.
Everywhere I look, there are ads marking Mother's Day. Mostly they conform to stereotype: flowers, jewelry, perfume. Not a lot of books. Not many computers. Few tools. Little that's useful.
In the 74 years and nearly four months marking her time on what she called this crooked old Earth, my mother rarely drew a healthy breath. Still, to say that life wasn't fair for this awkwardly glib, yet deeply religious woman, would fail to take into account her towering instinct for survival.
From a child, I knew I didn't have the face I wanted to have. My mother was a baroness. She was from Berlin; she was a silent movie actress and friends with Marlene Dietrich. So she knew all about film make-up and prosthetics and stuff like that and what they used to do in those days. And she taught me all that as a child.
My mother told me that my birth mother got pregnant by a married man who didn't want to leave his wife.
My mother named me for Marty Robbins.
My mother witnessed the martyrdom of her husband, Hajj Malik Shabazz, Malcolm X, on Sunday, February 21, 1965, at the Audubon Ballroom in New York City. My older sisters, Attallah, Qubilah and I were seated with our mother up front and stage right.
My mother had a marvelous talent for mishandling money - mine.
My most memorable meal is every Thanksgiving. I love the food: the turkey and stuffing; the sweet potatoes and rice, which come from my mother's Southern heritage; the mashed potatoes, which come from my wife's Midwestern roots; the Campbell's green-bean casserole; and of course, pumpkin pie.
I think losing your mother at such a young age does end up shaping your life massively. Of course it does, and now I find myself trying to be there and give advice to other people who are in similar positions.
I was very fortunate in my gene mix. The gambling instincts I inherited from my father were matched by my mother's gift for analysis.
I came out of the womb drawing on everything; I used to draw on my mother's white furniture and her white walls with her red lipstick and my pencils. Little did she know that would later materialize into me doing what I do now - I'm a painter as well and a micromechanical engineer.
In the case of maternal health care, you look at, well naturally, it's the mother who's the customer, who makes the decisions. But in truth, the mother in many areas, in certain parts of India, the mother has very little decision-making power at all. The real decision-maker is the mother-in-law.
Water is life's matter and matrix, mother and medium. There is no life without water.
I think over the years, being a mother, I've matured in so many ways.
My mother was there every day of the production. You know what? My mother and I are so close, she really understands the fact that I am 18 and I am maturing. I guess I am not your average 18 year-old.
I believe there's no proverb but what is true; they are all so many sentences and maxims drawn from experience, the universal mother of sciences.
My mother had all these maxims - like, classy girls never chew gum, never read comic books, never get their ears pierced, never get their hair dyed.
Stella McCartney, not only is she a designer, she is a mother of four, and she lives for practicality. She understands what a woman needs to wear to work and what a woman needs to wear when it's time to go out and put on the Ritz!
