I ride for my wonderful mother who sadly passed away from cancer in 2019, a few weeks short of her 70th birthday.

My mother, Hafeera, was born in August 1946 in the beautiful island country of Sri Lanka. Educated as a biologist at the University of Colombo, she worked at several positions to support us during trying times, even though women of her background were not encouraged to work, or even study beyond high school. But her primary focus throughout the prime years of her life was me, her only child. My earliest memories was of my mother taking me on walks through our garden and our neighborhood parks; I recall that the first complete sentence I spoke was to her; I remember her standing out in the blazing sum to walk me home from school; and I cannot forget her painstaikingly going over my school work with me, even the subjects that she had very little expertise in.

The wonderful relationship I had with my mother soured after my marriage- so much so that I barely spoke with her over the phone, let alone visited her. There were times that I went weeks without communicating with her. It was only after she was diagnosed with colorectal cancer in the States that I softned, but by then it was too late to heal the relationship. Although we visited her at her sister's home, the interaction was very awkward and we had hardly anything to say to each other. She returned to Sri Lanka a few days after, and passed away due to a failed surgery. Not only did I not see her during last days, I did not even attend her funeral.

My mother was one of the most unselfish, generous, hardworking, caring, and loving people I know. She lived a difficult life, as a child of divorce, at times being the only breadwinner in the family, and raising a child with minimal family support. But she made the best of tough situations, and nearly always came out on top, As far as I know, there were just two challenges that she could not conquer- my cruelty toward her when I was married, and the cancer that ultimately took her life.

Now that my loving mom is no more, I cannot undo the hurt I caused the woman who gave me so much. There is not much I regret in my life, but this is a burden I carry with me every day. What I would give to go back in time and make the necessary changes so I could have a loving and caring relationhip with this wonderful woman.

If you have read this far, thank you! Please consider making a donation that you can afford in my mother's honor to help find a cure for this dreadful disease.

I thank you sincerely,

Firaz