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I lost my mother, Judy Koo, on June 19th, 2008. Mom was 49 years old, just six months away from her 50th birthday.


I am here to share with you a glimpse of my mother, who was my best friend and my hero. In writing this, it has been extremely difficult, not only because I am devastated, but because there is so much that I want to convey in this short amount of time. I just hope I am able to show you what a phenomenal human being my mother was.


Immense strength is what my mother possessed. Actually, that doesn't even begin to describe the depth of it. Mom battled cancer for 16 very long years. Throughout it all, she carried herself with beauty, grace, dignity, and a quiet confidence. No matter how sick she got, she always had this lasting energy, and was ready to start a new wonderful day. Every second was precious.


I remember the day she was first diagnosed. I was probably about 11 years old or so. Mom came home and just hugged me so tightly and told me, "Mommy has cancer." I didn't really understand what that meant, just that it wasn't good because she was crying when she said it. So I started to cry with her and held on as tight as I could because I couldn't bear to see her that way.


Although she had this horrible disease, she still was able to put a brave face on for my family and show us that she would beat it. Mom was a trooper alright, the fiercest of them all. And she did for the next 16 years. Every time she had a recurrence, she fought it. We thought she could make it through anything. She was Super Mom.


When Mom was diagnosed with a metastatic brain tumor two years ago, she was the one that comforted my father and I after her surgery. She had just gotten out of surgery and was in ICU. I literally ran to the hospital after work and was bawling and demanded to be let into the ICU. My father had just gotten there as well. There my mother was, laid up in the bed, with her head wrapped in bandages with a huge smile on her face. And she said, "Don't cry, I'm doing just fine! I remember everything, don't worry. George, honey, our anniversary is June 14th, 1980. Pam, your birthday is on May 28th. We had ribs for dinner last week. See, I'm ok!" My Dad and I, were blithering idiots, crying and messy with snot, and couldn't help but laugh. That was my Mom. Always strong and always with a smile, even through the pain.

I hope that one day, we will be able to eradicate this terrible, pervasive disease that took my mother - the fiery, passionate person away from me and my family. I hope that one day no one will have to suffer the kind of loss that my family and I have. The foundation of our home.