This fundraiser is for my mother’s wishes. My mother has been battling chronic kidney disease for the longest but for the past 6 years, it’s been slowing getting worse. Things weren’t bad until April 8th, 2026. That’s when her health drastically declined and Palliative Care was brought in. On 6/30/26, we had a terrifying moment where she was unresponsive. I held her as she took her last breath and stared blankly. I saw what the officer was trying to hide me from. I remember hearing the X-Series defibrillator not detecting a pulse. I remember the blood on the floor. I remember all the officers holding me back as the paramedics rushed her out. The living room looked like an emergency room. Unfortunately, as we prayed next to her in ICU she officially left us on 7/1/2026 at 2:28pm.
Before this incident, we briefly spoke about her wishes and she definitely didn’t want to be buried. She wanted to be cremated, with no service and to be brought back home to Battambang, Cambodia whenever I had money saved up for an overseas trip so she can be at peace with her husband and parents. Below is a little bit of her story. Please enjoy, thank you.
My name is Rick, I’m my mother’s last son and hope. I’m reaching out in regards to possibly receiving assistance as her condition is worsening. My mother, Sothi, is an immigrant who fled Cambodia right after the Khmer Rouge regime were defeated by the Vietnamese. She ran day and night through the jungle with my older siblings to Thailand for refuge as there were rumors they had food and protection from the remaining Khmer Rouge soldiers roaming around. Shortly after she was sent to the Philippines as a refugee prior to boarding the plane to come to the United States as there was a sponsor who was willing to help my family.
She was the last family on the plane that landed at Boston Logan airport in December of 1980 with the 4 kids, freezing, speaking very little English, while only wearing ripped and dirty clothes on their backs. The sponsor located them an apartment in Dorchester, MA with about 6 months of rent paid in advance. From what I’ve gathered per conversations with Mom, racism towards the other Cambodian family during her time in Dorchester was hectic. Walks to obtain groceries were a challenge as groups would rob or assault her. The other Cambodian family always sent their 2 older teens to protect Mom and my brother for grocery runs.
In 1981 she made the decision to move the family to Revere, MA where there was a bigger Cambodian community. Being in a new country with endless opportunities and working as a maid in East Boston at the Ramada, she was super excited to finally earn her own money. It shortly ended after 6 years. She met my abusive father and turned to whiskey. With depression from the war, her husband being executed, abuse from my father; she was quickly losing hope. On 12/25/1987, her water broke. Another Cambodian family heard my mother in distress and drove her to a nearby hospital located in Cambridge, MA. On that rising, she gave birth to me at 3:02am while intoxicated. The abuse had got worse as my father tortured my family. My siblings were beaten like my mother. He left.
In 1992 DSS was called. I recall vividly saying goodbye to my mom as she cried at the Revere train station. I didn’t know why she was crying as I smelt the ocean with the sun on my face. The days in foster were good and bad, there were many nights of crying and not understanding why I wasn’t with my mom. From many days of being told she hated me while being locked in a room with 2 cat litter bins that were never cleaned to befriending other neighborhood kids to play with or even the minor fights with the sisters as I was the only boy in that foster household. Even memories of my elementary teachers at the Marsh Grammar School, who were always encouraging me to speak up if I ever had a question about anything or attending ESL classes to be taught English and morals that I continue to hold on to. My mom eventually overcame her depression caused by the war, from her husband being dragged away to only be executed in front of her, seeing other prisoners being shot point blank or all the dead bodies she had to step on all the way to the physical and mental abuse by leaving the whiskey bottle after an ER doctor asked if she wanted to live to see another day or to even see her kids grow up. She survived 2 wars with nothing and continued to push through the hardships for a better future.
In 1999, I was formally adopted by one of the four older siblings I didn’t remember. She wanted me to be back with the family. I lost my Khmer tongue and could barely communicate with my mom. All I knew is that she cared and loved me as she continued to battle her own demons. My sister was a single mother that was going to school and working long hours to provide for me and her son. With no supervision, I ended up straying off path and fell into gang life. I eventually realized being a gang banger wasn’t the best choice I made, so I decided to join JROTC for a chance to enter any branch with 2 stripes automatically after graduation. That dream fell apart as I wanted out of the gang and was beaten into a coma for two weeks on 9/12/03 for trying to get out. I had to relearn how to walk, talk, read and write. It was as if I was a baby again. My mother tried her best to comfort me and help me up every rising to go into Community Rehab Care located in Quincy, MA so I can get better. It’s been a journey but I’m better than I was during my stay at Children’s Spaulding Rehab (Mass Eye & Ear). Young and dumb with a TBI, I didn’t care about anything. My relationship with Mom became weak. We rarely spoke.
As I got older I began to see things clearer. In my early 20s, I was in a packed bar waiting on friends for another night of heavy drinking when I suddenly felt odd. I had put my shot glass down and looked all around. A voice told me “Stop and look at how you look when you’re drunk”. It scared me and I ended up leaving the bar. I have rarely ever drank since. I began noticing things changing. A few years later I landed an entry level job at ZOLL Medical via a staffing agency. Stressful position but management had given me a shot to turn a short term position into a long term position. They didn’t expect I was going to elevate and succeed, exposing the position that eventually turned into a sub division of QA. I recall a manager from a neighboring department asked me where do I see myself in 5 years? I took a second and told him “happy”. He nodded and walked away confused.
After 5 long years of blood, sweat, tears, lies, and politics I couldn’t do it anymore. With my oldest brother battling leukemia, I had to figure something out. I went to my manager to give her my 2-week notice as they failed to keep their promise of converting me to a permanent employee and having personal issues. She asked what I was going to do for new work and I told her I’m not sure yet but I know I like to help others. In mid 2019 I was offered to become a PCA for my mother as I was unemployed. I had an awakening a few months later in December. I saw, heard and felt everything different. It all came to me like a pounding drum. From there our relationship went beyond anything I ever expected. We became best friends. All the stories of when she was a young girl to her getting her first American paycheck will always remain with me.
Realizing her sacrifices for my siblings so they could have opportunities and a better life breaks me down into tears whenever I think about it. I understand she wasn’t the greatest mother but what mother is? She tried her best and that’s all I could ever ask for. I believe God has a plan for us all and puts us where we need to be.
For instance, if I were to be deployed after joining the military there’s no guarantee that I would’ve made it home or if I had died after getting out of the gang, I’m not sure anyone would’ve cared for my mother. I’m not a fortune teller but I feel as if God saved me for my mother. He took me away to teach me what I needed to care for her emotionally, spiritually and physically. As of right now, I have very little to no support. Three weeks of fighting with unemployment and EBT and still being denied after I pay my fair amount of taxes.
I apologize for this extreme essay but I felt it was necessary to inform everyone of how much or if any assistance would mean to my mother and I. With my lifelong TBI many doubt me of my capabilities as the lingering aftermath is too much to handle but I’m determined to help my mother as she’s been by my side through thick and thin. As her son and ex caregiver, I’d like to ask if anyone would be able to donate to assist me with bringing her back home within the next year. Please remain grateful for every day we all are able to rise to see another day ❤️
Thank you for taking a moment of your life to hear me cry. It was an honor serving my mom. I wish I could turn back hands of time and stop all of the pain she felt emotionally and physically throughout her life. I saw her innocent soul of the little girl crying inside. I just wish I was a better son for her. I wish she knows I’m sorry for all the wrong I’ve done in my younger years. With love & empathy ❤️
-Mr. Le
