As Mother’s Day 2008 passed, I am reminded of fond memories of my mother. While she is no longer living, the fact remains: that I still think of her and the memories I had while she was alive.

My mom passed away Sept. 21, 1997, just 20 days after I turned 14.

It was a rough time. Just starting high school, not having someone there for you who and having to cope with what life threw at you at an early age.

This September, it will be 11 years since mom lost her battle with gastric cancer.

The thing that hurt the most was she was a nurse.

The thing she did for a living was to help people; yet there was nothing the doctors could do for her.

To me, Mother’s Day is a way to honor the women who act in a motherly way towards you.

My grandmother’s passed away a couple of years ago, but my family showed them how much they meant on that special day in May.

I have met many people over the years who are amazed to learn that my mom passed away. I do not feel remorse for telling them. I feel it helps to talk about her; it reminds me of everything she did for me while she was alive.

She was the oldest of three children, born in a little town in Brooklyn, New York called Flatbush. Being an Italian woman, family always came first. The great thing about my mom was she took her best friends and made them part of the family as well.

One of the best things of having an Italian mom was the cooking.

There was never an option as to what was for dinner; whatever she cooked was amazing.

Although I cannot cook anywhere near how she does, I do not expect to; her cooking was better than many of the Italian restaurants that I have dined at over the years.

What strikes a lot of people as strange with me is I never talk about my mom in the negative.

When I look back on my life, everything she did for me was a positive. While it may have seemed like what she was doing at the time would not be of any use, I can now see that everything my mom did would help me in the long run.

With the situation I was in after my mom passed, I was not very accepting of a lot of things. One of those was religion.

My mom was a devout Roman-Catholic. Every Sunday we attended church. What hurt the most was seeing a woman who had such a strong belief in God being taken away from her family. Why would God do this? How could He?

After years of posing this question in my head, the answer hit me. He did not do this just because.

He did this because he knew the outcome. Many people need to understand that things like this happen for a reason. Nothing happens just because. There is a reason for everything.

When I look back to remind myself of the good times, nothing but a smile and a tear escape my body. Mother’s Day always brings back great memories.

One thing my mother always told me was to stay optimistic.

That was the best piece of advice she could have ever given me.