"The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood!" -- Anna Quindlen, 2003.

So here I am, my brother and I, sitting in the laundromat while our clothes are being washed. As I sit, I look at the clothes spinning in the dryer, going round and round and round, trying to think of anything other than the obvious. But my stomach is spinning. My stomach is tightening. My brother's stomach is cramping. What's going on?

We are at the point where our stomachs can't take it anymore; we need to eat. But how? We have no money, and the money we do have is being used to wash our clothes. Oh Lawd, what are we gonna do?

In comes our Superwoman -- my Mom. But there are only a few quarters left. Two dollars were used for gas just so we could make it home once the clothes were cleaned for school and work. Mom, hungry herself as none of us had eaten and it was well past dinner time, decides to put on her long, red cape and mask.

All three of us head across the street to a place called Scooters. She decides to take the two dollars' worth of quarters that were needed to dry the clothes and get a combo, which at that time was $1.99. We get the burger, drink and fries, then head back across the street to the laundromat. As we sit down, Mom takes the fries and divides them between me and my brother. Mom, who I know for a fact is hungry too, takes a small bite of the burger before dividing the rest between me and my brother. And that is our dinner.

I can‘t tell you how happy we were that night. Happy to have some food in our stomachs. Happy that we didn't have to go to bed hungry. But more importantly, happy that we were blessed to have a mother who put her kids before herself. My mom was, is and will always be my Superwoman. Sure, the red cape worn was used to hide us in the wake of danger, and yes, her mask was used to conceal her tiredness and pain. But in the end, it was the perfect outfit for a Super Mom. Happy Mother's Day to MY Guiding Light, My mom, Mother Mary! I love you dearly!

What does your mom mean to you? Contact YOUR Black Pope at ECWHOH@yahoo.com.