Short clip of my mom's service. 

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Great Auntie, I will miss you so much, your love, your smile, your laugh, your humor.  You are so smart and kind.  I had the best time with you when I visited Alaska and met you for the first time.  You will be remembered forever and you will live in my heart.  I’m so sorry I won’t be able to be there to say my last goodbyes.  

Sending prayer to the entire family, aunties, uncles, cousins.  

When you left to heaven.  You took apart of me with you. My life feels empty without you.

You're the most beautiful, kind hearted mother anyone can ever have.  You always give your all. You were so independent and caring.  When you love,  you love so hard.  You forget to love yourself. You've been my inspiration and my determination to live again when I was fighting covid. I'll never forget your words you said to me, Mom!

 But, How do I live without you? This world is a better place because of you. Thank you for teaching me about God. Because of God, I'm a little stronger today,  knowing you are home with him now.  I'll never forget you! Kuv Hlub Koj os kuv Niam es. 

As I reflect on the story my mother shared, the details may not be exact, but I'm sharing this to the best of my recollection and in my own words.

During the fierce decade of the 1970s, in the depths of the night, when the moon hung low in the sky, and the world was cloaked in darkness, my mother, a mere girl of twelve or thirteen years, made a daring decision. Together with a brave friend, she resolved to embark on a treacherous journey across the mighty Mekong River. Unbeknownst to her at the time, she had yet to discover the existence of God, but a deep-seated belief in a higher power had continuously resided within her soul.

Hand in hand, they ventured forth, their hearts pounding in their chests as they navigated the dangerous path through the bullet-ridden forest. With each step, the fear of capture loomed over them, for the consequences would be dire—a bullet piercing through their fragile bodies in an instant.

At last, as the first rays of dawn painted the horizon, they arrived at the river's edge. Their bodies trembled with a mixture of anticipation and dread. In the distance, voices carried on the wind, causing them to cower beneath the shelter of tall grasses, holding their breath in desperate silence. As the voices faded into the distance, my mother knew that the time had come to make her crossing.

Gathering bamboo sticks and binding them with whatever materials they could find, they fashioned a makeshift raft. Determined, they set sail upon the dark waters, their ears tuned to the haunting echoes of voices that seemed to follow them. Silently, they drifted, their journey camouflaged in the darkness. Yet, fate had a different plan in store for them.

Amid their secret voyage, my mother and her friend became separated. Panic gripped her heart as she watched her companion vanish amidst the dense grasses. She whispered a promise to return, urging her friend to stay hidden and await rescue.

It was not long before my mother's fate took a fortunate turn. Two unfamiliar women, their tongues foreign to the Hmong language, stumbled upon her hiding place. Recognizing the situation's urgency, they swiftly alerted the authorities, who whisked my mother away to a nearby camp where she would be reunited with her scattered family members. She recounted the tale of her lost friend, and a group of brave men ventured back to the treacherous terrain to search for her.

After what seemed like an eternity, my mother finally set foot on American soil. It had been a long and treacherous journey, filled with countless obstacles and unknowns. But with unwavering determination and the help of kind-hearted individuals, she managed to find her way to a new chapter in her life. It was during this time that she discovered the presence of the Lord, our Heavenly Father, guiding her every step of the way.