My mother’s name is Gale. It is my middle name, as her middle name is my grandmother’s name.
Two definitions of Gale are:
My mom doesn’t sit still for long. She was always up, always making things happen, occasionally stirring things up. She always has new ideas and new ventures. She doesn’t take life as it comes, but makes things come to life.
My mother has a gift at seeing potential in things. Abandoned three car garage? She sees a one-of-a-kind home. Patch of dirt, filled with weeds? She sees juicy watermelons, tomatoes and bright blue snapdragons. Weathered scarp furniture? She sees a one of a kind room accent.
My mom was into vintage, health food, and green solutions, before it was ever a mass trend. She always expects the end of the world, but keeps living like it won’t happen in her lifetime anyways.
Growing up, my mom taught me to focus on on strengths- it didn’t matter if I struggled with math, because I was going to be a writer. She gave me books and arts and craft supplies to feed my imagination and made me play out side when I wanted to watch TV.
She told me to keep writing. She told me to do what was on my heart and not listen to what society was pressuring me to do.
My mom has been through hell and back and has kept on going, looking forward, forging a path, making a way. She is a fighter, and she is not ashamed to speak her mind, see things differently or be herself.
She makes no apologies for who she is.
Powerful, Brooke.