About one year ago, I was packing my bags. I had one week left of Utah before I could finally come home after six months. My mother flew out to spend the weekend with me, even though she would be flying out only one week later.

She planned on watching me run in the Utah state track meet, which I had qualified for in the 800 meter run. I was terrified. My time in treatment had been a strenuous journey, but I was so unprepared when I thought about returning home. I never expressed my anxiety to my mom, but I could tell she knew how I was feeling.

My mother had always been mysteriously insightful with me. My mother and I are so similar, she can usually understand exactly what I’m experiencing without me saying a word. So when she came to support me that weekend, I wasn’t too surprised.

That weekend of May 2018 will always be important to me. Nothing really significant happened, but I remember every detail. I was about to transition back into my old life, a terrifying feat that didn’t bother me at all; because I knew my mother would be by my side no matter what.

I struggled to write this article at first. I tried explaining how my mother single-handedly worked herself out of poverty. I listed the tremendous academic achievements she has worked for over the years. I even thought about just describing her kind and giving personality by recalling as many examples as I could and listing them.

However, nothing can truly describe the wonderful woman Lisa Cox. You would just have to meet her yourself.

So why mention the weekend she spent with me so long ago? My mom was getting ready to start an entire new chapter in her life. She was going back to school, moving into a new home, and constantly supporting her teenage daughter, and she still flew all the way across the country for one weekend with her son, knowing she would see him the following week anyway.

My mom gives me a reason to live, and a drive to succeed. Her maternal instincts make her the most kindhearted and caring person in every room. She picks up every single piece of trash she sees, and helps anyone and everyone who asks her for help.

This Mother’s Day, and every Mother’s Day, I recognize Lisa Cox, the reason I am here today and the reason I will still be here tomorrow. I love you, Mom.