It was 28 years ago today that I lost My Mommy after a 2-year battle with cancer. I was twelve years old. I only had my mother in my life for what seems like now only a brief moment.

My memories of her are few sadly. She was beautiful, classy and charming. Everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE loved her cooking. When I was a child, our house was the hub for many of the Filipinos living in Austin – our extended family. Mommy would cook for hours to prepare for every gathering for pretty many any occasion – birthdays, holidays, you name it, we were celebrating something at our house. Mommy was the perfect hostess, and she cooked for everyone with so much love and joy. You could taste it in her food. I wish I inherited that gene.

I can no longer remember her laugh or her voice for that matter. That makes me so sad, but I cling to and treasure the few memories I have of her. I vividly remember her strength and her grace. Even when she was alive she appeared to be an angel to me, and she’s now been my guardian angel for 28 years.

I’m thankful for the time I had with her, the lessons she taught me, and her love that I still feel today.

I miss you and love you so much, Mommy.

Twelve years. That is the length of time that I got with my mother before she passed. It’s not much. Looking back, it was the blink of an eye.

I don’t have a lot of memories of her. And unfortunately, most of them are of her illness. But today, as I look down at my hands, I’m so thankful that they are her hands. When I look at them, I see Mommy’s hands. The hands that cared for the sick. The hands that nurtured and raised my sister and me for as long as they could.

I look at my hands and am thankful that I have a part of my mother. And I continue to do my best to carry on her legacy with them.