If I have to name the best childhood memory, it would be of growing up with the best brothers one could ever have. With two older siblings, life was an adventure. A daily struggle of who will Mama and Papa listen to. And since I was the youngest, I always get to say the last word – and often get away with it. I watched the two try to get off music and arts lessons with Papa on the weekends. They always failed – miserably. I have to laugh now that I think about it…

Moving to the city in with the goofballs in 1999 was like moving to a palace with my personal butlers. Yeah, I know, I sound vain. But they did treat me like a princess. They cooked for me. They cleaned up the house. I did nothing but go to school and come back home, eat, study, go to sleep, and wake up… I was the luckiest.

2001 proved to be a year that will challenge our Faith, followed by several more years of challenges and never ending test. In 2004, I came home to say my last farewell to our eldest brother. My heart broke for my Family.
11 years and my heart is yet to be healed. It is only easier to move forward holding on to the fond memories of happier times…