As my mom and I sat in the airport waiting for our ride when we came back from South America this summer, she started telling me how clearly she remembers the day she arrived to this country. She said she remembers the times she got lost. The times she felt such relief when finding someone who spoke Spanish to help, and how tough it was the times she couldn’t find someone.
I asked her if she had to do it all over again if she would. Without any hesitation she said to me,
“Uy, claro que sÃ! Yo a este paÃs le vivo muy agradecida por que me dio a mis dos hijos y oportunidades que yo nunca hubiera podido tener en Honduras.â€
(Oh, of course! I am very grateful to this country, because it gave me my two children and has granted me opportunities I would’ve never had in Honduras.)
My mother is one of the most grateful people I know. Frankly, I sometimes think she’s grateful to a fault. She never forgets the favors people did for her during some of our most difficult times. Her life here has not been an easy one, life in general isn’t meant to be easy. But, it takes a certain level of badassery (not a confirmed word in the Oxford dictionary) to pack up your bags and move to a whole new country you’ve never even seen. Not to mention, leaving your country and family not knowing when you’ll return.
My mom is the ultimate American. She listens to the Star-Spangled banner carefully every time it plays. She likes watching shows like Family Feud bc she says they teach her new words in English. She LOVES Facebook and her iPhone. She’s full of hope. Hope granted to her by living in a place where if you work hard you can come from an impoverished country, not know the language, and raise two professionals. Hope is a gift my mother has never taken for granted. She is forever grateful to this country for granting her that hope.
This Thanksgiving we spent it apart. We have lots to be thankful for- my mom’s health, my new job, amazing friends along with a roof over our heads and food on our tables. My mom came from very little and is always reminding us to give thanks, no matter the occasion. To her you need to be thankful for everything from the bus driver who gets you home safely to the steady paycheck.
Maybe that’s why when it comes time for Thanksgiving if we can’t get together none of us feel all that terrible. When your family consists of three people every gathering is a family gathering. We know how lucky we are and even if we’re apart we know we’re not alone. We’re a formidable army of three who eat turkey weekly (lean meats, ya know?!). We look forward to the next time we see each other and figuring out what vacation we’ll take next.
We’re three people full of hope and for that we are grateful.
On July 27th, the company I now work for had told me they’d call me back shortly with a final offer. I was beyond excited. Moving back to NYC had been my dream for years. It was all finally happening.
As I waited for the phone call, I was in my kitchen cooking, and my brother called. I had him on speakerphone, and he told me to take him off, which I found odd. He proceeds to make small talk with me and then tells me we have to talk and I should sit. He then tells me, “Mom’s results came back positive…for cancer.â€
This all started a few months back when my mom starting showing ONE symptom. She’s good about going to the doctor – so she went and got some tests done. In the past, she had shown a similar symptom and everything came back normal, so I didn’t worry.
When my brother told me, I didn’t really know what to say besides, “Ok…†I work in a business where you deal with tragedy every day. If it’s not a mass shooting, it’s a natural disaster, or war. You learn to not let things sink in, because you don’t have time. You need to crank out a script, and inform everyone else. There’s NO time to feel.
My brother was very supportive and told me he was going to let me go, but if I needed anything to call him. He’s always the family rock. In serious situations, our (my mom and I) feelings come first. As a matter of fact, when my mom told him her diagnosis his response to her was:
“Hemos ganado peores batallas.â€
     “We’ve overcome worse battles.â€
I did ask him why he was the one telling me. He said my mom didn’t have the heart to tell me, so he told her he’d handle it. I hung up the phone and just sat there. I did what my instincts always tell me to do, call my best friend, Valerie. She was at work, and when she answers the phone the idea of saying the words made my voice crack.
“My mom has cancer.â€
After I hung up with her, I composed myself and called my mom. She told me she was diagnosed with endometrial cancer, or endometrial adenocarcinoma. Your endometrium is the lining of your uterus. The symptom my mom had was something we women would’ve blamed hormones for, except at her age it’s not.
My next concern was the fact she was heading home to an empty house. When I told her, she said she had already called my other best friend, Ignacio, who’s like a younger brother, to go to the house. I called him to give him the heads up. He knew she had been getting tests done and had even taken her to one of them. He was a God send that day, more than others, because when my mom pulled up to the house, he was already there. Thankfully, my brother was scheduled for a work trip and was arriving to Miami the next day.
Of course, during all of this, HR calls and I get my final offer. It’s honestly comical. I didn’t tell them anything at the moment, but I did know the person who was going to be my new boss. I called her and told her. Again, I got nothing short of support and compassion. I was even given the option to work from the Miami offices if need be. Later on, I did tell my new company, and they allowed me to start at a later date to be with my mom.
In the next three days, I quit my job, sold all my stuff, packed up my car and moved from Atlanta to Miami. My mom’s doctors had moved quickly, so her surgery was scheduled for Monday, August 3rd. She was going to have a radical hysterectomy.
I had no time to break down and cry, or process. I had to GO. But, had I wanted to, it wouldn’t have happened. My support system in Atlanta was so out of this world that had I tried to collapse, everyone would’ve held me up. Friends who helped me pack, who gave me a “mom†hug when I needed one, who took whatever stress they could off my plate, a friend from Orlando even flew up so I wouldn’t drive down alone. I was humbled.
I called it the “passing of the baton.†The day she got diagnosed, Ignacio carried the baton until my brother arrived Tuesday. He could only stay until the day before the surgery which is exactly when I arrived to take the baton to the finish line.
That Sunday, we had brunch together at our favorite Irish pub. All was normal. My mom was strong. Her faith is something that should be examined by NASA, because it’s out of this world. All three of us had an “Alright, let’s do this,†attitude.
Surgery day came, and again, we were surrounded with support. My best friend, Valerie, took the day off of work. My cousin’s mom, and his aunt, along with our other cousin, also came to the hospital. You know, you’re not really Latino unless you have an overabundance of people and volume at these things.
Surgery lasted three hours. When the oncologist came out, he gave us the good news. It looked like her surrounding organs were untouched. It was a tough first week of recovery, but my mom did what she always does, she kicked ridiculous ass.
A week and a half later, her pathology results were in. We got more good news – no further treatment needed. No chemo. No radiation. She even got the ok to fly so I could bring her with me to NYC to finish recovering. Hell, the doctor even said she could have a margarita! Naturally, we celebrated.
We were so lucky. We ARE so lucky. I don’t even feel like I could ever complain about this speed bump life gave us. I don’t even know if it’s right to call it a speed bump! My mom got diagnosed and cured in a week. Are we forever impacted? Yes. Did we get the good end of the bargain? Absolutely.
My mom later told me that when the doctor gave her the diagnosis, she didn’t believe him. Then, she said she had a flashback and saw my brother and I when we were small. Even then, she never shed a single tear. She said she knew God was testing her, and he’d get her through. Trust me, I know how unbelievable it is.
Belgica calling her son on the day she was told no further treatment was required.
I learned so many things from this experience with my mom. First and foremost, I was reassured and blown away by the rock solid strength my mother has. I’m also glad she’s diligent about going to the doctor. It is SO important! Early detection makes all the difference.
Secondly, my friends. From the support system in Atlanta, to the my support system in Orlando during my pit stop, to my family (blood and non-blood) in Miami. The friends who showed up to the hospital after working all day. The ones who brought us food. The ones who called. My always dependable “Faithful Four.†My former and current employers. Those who offered to help carry the baton if I had to move to NYC and my mom needed more treatment. All pride in your independence goes out the window in these scenarios, and it was good to know I have an army behind me.
Most importantly, I learned cancer doesn’t always mean death, but it does mean caution. I hesitated to write about this, because we all kept it personal for a bit. I’m not trying to get on a soapbox, but if you take anything away from this incredibly long post, it’s if your gut tells you something is wrong, go to the doctor! Exhaust all possibilities. That’s what my mom did. That’s why she’s still here.
My mom celebrated her 61st birthday on Tuesday. Thankfully, she’s still hanging out with me in NYC until I get my apartment and am all settled. I decided to ask her what her top six moments of the last 61 years have been. Here you go (in chronological order and not necessarily order of importance):
Her wedding day –My mother has always said her wedding day really was one of the best memories of her life. She remembers being full of hopes, dreams and excitement.
The day she gave birth to each of us – My mom loves us limitlessly. She says despite the painful experience of child birth, and how hard it is to raise kids, she wouldn’t have it any other way. I tell ya, we aren’t easy cookies so there’s a lot of love and patience there.
The day my brother and I each graduated college –For my mother this was her American dream. All she wanted was to raise two professionals. We did it!
Visiting the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Lourdes in Lourdes, France - My mom is a very devout Catholic and says ever since she was a little girl she dreamt of traveling to Lourdes but never thought it’d be possible. Thankfully, she checked it off her bucket list. (photo credit: Mom)
Seeing my grandmother turn 91 – My grandmother is not only 91 but is as healthy as a horse. She’s a little frail like most of us would be, but has a sharp tongue paired with sharp wit. She went to the doctor a few weeks ago and tried hitting on the man! Here she is surrounded by mariachis on her 91st in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.
Vacationing in Argentina with my brother and I- This was probably the most surprising one for me. She told me that for her “eso fue lo máximoâ€Â (it was awesome). When I asked her why, she said she never imagined us being all together on vacation somewhere like Argentina. When we were younger we didn’t go on vacation and any trips were to Honduras to see family. It was a fun treat to be all together…sipping on wine…lots of wine.
From listening to her I was reminded of the importance of gratitude. She’s so thankful for all of these experiences. She’s humbled by so many of them and realizes how fortunate we are. She doesn’t feel entitled or like these are experiences she’s earned. She’s just grateful.
The crazy thing is five out of her six best moments have happened in the last 31 years. As usual, she reminds me it’s never too late.
I went back and forth about whether or not I should make this week’s post about this. Many times when something strikes a chord with me I want to write it down. It wasn’t until I received a phone call from my best friend that I realized I needed to do it.
I’ve recently moved to New York City, and my best friend was calling me to catch up. The second question out of her mouth was, “Amiga – can I tell you how happy I am you’re not out in the field anymore after what happened with that reporter yesterday?â€
No, I’ve never been a reporter. But, I have field produced quite a bit. As a field producer you essentially do the same thing a reporter does except stand in front of the camera – you gather video and spend endless hours with a photographer, find interviews, get information confirmed, talk to officials, etc.
In my new role, I’m in-house more. I get to write, and still work with correspondents, I’m just not out in the field. When I told my mom what my friend had said, she told me the same thing crossed her mind yesterday. Her words to me were:
“Tu no sabes como yo he rezado. Cuando mire eso ayer dije, ‘Gracias a Dios que Victoria ya no esta en el field.’â€
(â€You have no idea how much I’ve prayed. When I saw that yesterday I said, ‘Thank God Victoria isn’t out in the field anymore!’â€)
I’m a firm believer that you can’t be controlled by fear. I also didn’t realize anyone would correlate yesterday’s events with me. My mom’s words made me remember how happy she is every time I get a new job. If I’m stressed out and unhappy with work, she’s stressed out and unhappy for me. Whatever I feel, she feels.
I didn’t know Alison Parker or Adam Ward. But, this business is so small I know someone who knew Alison. That friend of mine is distraught. We’ve all been distraught and in a daze. As my friend told me, “She was just doing her job.†They paid the ultimate price for that job.
I never really imagined my mom worried that much about me when I was out in the field. Moms always worry, that’s what they do. It taught me that sometimes when you’re out living your dream, your mom is back home praying you come home safe.
Rest in peace, Alison and Adam, aka “The A-Team.â€
Putting into words how much you love someone can be really hard. The love is sometimes so powerful, you’re left speechless.
One of the most beautiful explanations my mom has used to describe her love for us came as a response to a bit of a smart answer I gave her.
She’s always said my brother and I are her lungs, without us she cannot breathe. One day I said to her:
“Bueno, uno puede vivir con un pulmón.â€
      (Well, you can live with one lung.)
She replied:
“Si, pero no vuelves a ser la misma.â€
     (Yes, but you’re never the same.)
Her response made me think, and I always remember it. It taught me how much you can mean to someone. You always know your mom loves you, but when it’s compared to something essential, like your lungs, you pause and really reflect.
I, too, honestly feel like I cannot breathe without my mother. In times of happiness, she’s there smiling ear-to-ear, in times of sadness, she holds my hand, and in challenging times, we love each other and stay positive.
Certain weeks, you feel really lucky and blessed. This week, I’m grateful for breathing room.
Victoria Moll-Ramirez is a broadcast journalist based in New York City. She is originally from Miami, FL and had the great fortune of being raised by the sassiest, spunkiest, wisest, most hysterical Honduran woman in the world. Victoria’s mother, Bélgica, is 60-years-old, resides in Little Havana (Miami) and enjoys a good margarita accompanied by a heartrending ranchera. Victoria blogs about her mom’s funny and wise sayings on, “In My Mother’s Words.â€
