It was a long drive home in the middle of the summer heat. I thought it was one of those I-hate-my-job-I-hate-my-life moments. Then I realized it was June 21, the ninth anniversary of my mother’s death. I came home and went through my journal, and to my surprise, I had over five hundred pages of typed events throughout the years. They were perfectly imperfect! Most words were misspelled, sentences were grammatically wrong, and worst of all, some I could hardly read. I laughed in disbelief and said, “I could make a book out of these scraps one day!” Only then did I remember when I was a child, I told my mother I wanted to be powerful whether that would be through wealth or fame, so I could care for her and my siblings. She paused and said, “If that’s what you want, go for it. But is that what you want?” I’ve struggled with what I’ve wanted since then. I thought all I ever wanted was to have the power and authority to protect her, provide for her, and to be by her side till death do us part. She once told me, “Life is not about living to chase after what we want. Many of us can never be satisfied with what we have accomplished. There are going to be things, big or small, some of us are after until the day we can no longer be in control of our consciousness. You cannot spend your life doing what it takes to protect me or your siblings. Maybe one day, you can tell your children what I and others have done to protect you. Words are powerful and they won’t be forgotten if you choose to share them.” Here I am, years later, putting together pieces of stories I wrote in my journal to form this memoir in memory of my mother, to tell stories of a strong woman she was, to tell the world the sacrifices she had to make to raise seven children single-handedly, and to maintain her legacy by keeping her memories alive. This book is about my the life of my mother, the life of my siblings, and the life I lived through from our hometown in Kandal Province to Phnom Penh City, Cambodia. It is the story of my journey to America and the struggles I have endured, hoping that someday, it will be heard and inspire someone. Inconsolable and ebullient, this book captures them all. As Reverend Cynthia A. Fisher-Broin, my American mother, once said, “It does not have to be beautiful because it is real.”