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Today, we introduce you to Seema’s mom, Madhu Patel —a perfect way to kick off our celebration of “The Women Who Made Us .”

Seema’s mom, Madhu Amin, graduating at the top of her class from college.

My biggest inspiration. My motivation. My mama bird. My guiding light.  My guardian angel. 

She left this earth way earlier than she should have, but her impact is lasting.  WWMD (What Would Mom Do) is what I often think to myself in most situations. 

Born in a small village in India in 1939, she was one of six girls.  Her father was a wealthy landowner who passed away when my mother was almost 4 years old, leaving my young grandmother to raise her girls on her own.  A greedy relative laid claim on most of the land leaving the family of women financially crippled.  But my grandmother was determined to educate her daughters and teach her girls independence.  She constantly reminded them to “always stand on your own two feet”.  One by one, she scraped by and pushed them towards higher learning—unheard of at the time.  It would be my mother who taught her how to read and write.

Mom graduated college at the top of her class and dreamed of becoming a doctor.  Because of financial constraints, she was unable to realize that dream.  In 1962, she met my father through a mutual family friend and they married soon after.  They took a leap and moved to the US in 1966 in search of new opportunities and a better life.  They landed at JFK with my older sister who was just a toddler, a few suitcases, and some borrowed money ($100!).  My father worked several jobs as he completed his masters and my mother settled into a job as a chemist while being a working mom.  She juggled taking care of family members that my parents committed to sponsoring as well as sending money back home—all the while living in a country—so different and so far away from what they were used to. 

But my mom?  She was a fighter, a risk-taker, a survivor, determined to stand on her own two feet.  This skill was essential when our world came crashing down when she was diagnosed with Ovarian cancer in 1998.  Ready for retirement and relaxation, her plans to retire somewhere warm would never be realized.  But still, she chose to fight.  Her battle would last for almost 10 years. 

I was just 21 when she was diagnosed and I remember not being able to process the thought of losing her.  One of the first things she said to me was that we all needed to practice “detachment,” a nod to the Hindu and Buddhist belief she held.  Only detachment from emotions and pain can bring true spiritual enlightenment and nirvana, and that was her wish for us.   She was trying to tell me to let go of the fear, of the negative thoughts, and urging me to live in the present moment.

I think of her daily as I raise my two girls, passing on her wisdom (hoping they listen), sharing her philosophy.  Although her journey was a constant uphill climb, she was quick to always remind me that the view from the summit was just a bonus…it was the climb that was the reward.

My biggest inspiration.  My motivation. My mama bird.  My guiding light.  My guardian angel. 

If I am one eighth of the mother and human, you were, Mom, I will consider myself rewarded.