One experience that was difficult for me was learning the truth about my mother and finally understanding that I could not save her. It all started in my sophomore year when my mother came to Tennessee. My mother was an alcoholic and I thought I could save her by finding her a job and keeping a close eye on her. Three days into her new job as a waitress at a Mexican restaurant, which I got for her because she was bilingual, I received a phone call from a police officer telling me my mother was intoxicated in front of a liquor store. My grandmother and I went to pick her up and immediately she started to blame the owner of the restaurant, calling him a pig and telling me lies. I had known the owner for a long time before hand, so I knew my mother