When I think of my Mom, I think of her laughter. She had
many laughs - a large, open mouthed laugh where her eyes would crinkle shut. A
smaller, secret laugh, "heh heh heh" that sounded like she knew a
funny secret, and was so pleased with herself. Her smile always filled me with
love and even when sitting quietly with her, the gravity of her spirit always
filled the room.
I have sat more times than I care to remember in emergency
rooms and doctors' offices with my Mom. She was never scared, always brave. She
gave over to the illnesses she struggled with and was so resilient. Instead,
she lived to enjoy the things she loved, like good food (roast duck always a
favorite) and spending time with her children. She expressed herself through
art, following the masters and applying her unique view of the world into her
sketches and paintings.
I wanted to be like my Mom, graduating top of my class in
high school and studying Chemical Engineering at UC Berkeley. Even though I did
not end up in a career in science, I like to think I still made her proud by
running my own business doing something completely different, in an artistic
field. When I sold my jewelry at a farmer's market on Sundays, she and my father would drive over 40 minutes to see me there. She would maybe sit for ten minutes or so, then she'd be ready to leave. Sometimes I would be busy, and I wouldn't notice that they had left. Sometimes I would be so busy I *wish* they would leave... but whatever the case, I always missed them when they were gone.
I know she did not see the world the same as we do. Her
fighting spirit is always with me and is the greatest gift a Mom could give to
her children.
She would tell me she didn't worry about me, because I knew how to live life well. I learned from the best.
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