I hope you, Dear Reader, were able to celebrate Mother’s Day with your mom, stepmom, and/or the motherly figures in your life. I’m fortunate that I’m able to spend time with my mom and I’m cognizant of the moments that I share with my her. I’m grateful for every single one.

Whenever anybody asks who my heroes are, I have a simple answer: my parents. They moved to the U.S. from the Philippines a lifetime ago, giving up their homeland for the opportunity of a better life in America and they’ve succeeded on so many levels. They raised three boys in a foreign land while supporting family members back home. They dealt with their boys acting out typical teenage rebelliousness. And they did it all with dignity and class.

Never have my brothers and I felt a lack of love from our parents, especially our mother. I remember a family party a few years ago where I overheard her talking to a relative: “It’s great when I talk to Ruel now. We’re friends.”

It was the best thing I’d heard in years. From anyone. I’ll always be her son, of course, but I’m thankful for our friendship that has evolved over the years. From our unofficial mother-son book club (we share a love of Tuesdays with Morrie and talked about it for hours) to our passion for going out to eat (we love cooking, too, but finding a new restaurant is something we both enjoy immensely), I cherish the time I have spent with mom as well as the time I will spend with her.

Call me biased, but she’s the Best. Mom. Ever.