Remembering Norma
Norma Maricruz Aguilar Hernandez (December 12, 1981 - January 06, 2025)
When I heard the news, it felt unreal. It still does…
Forty-three years is far too short a time for Norma——a bright, kind, and cheerful soul. It feels unfair that someone so gentle and genuine left this world so soon.
Like us, Norma was an immigrant. She was from Honduras at a young age. For the last few years, Norma has done weekly house cleaning for us. I remember a moment when she noticed some Honduran coins on our table—they were from a trip we took to Roatán. When she saw them, her face lit up with emotion, a connection to her homeland that seemed to bring both joy and nostalgia. It was a simple moment, yet it spoke volumes about her love for her roots.
But last Friday turned out to be the last time she could ever come to our house. We got a text and call from her daughter—Norma passed away from a sudden stroke on Monday, January 6. We were so shocked… our bed still has the sheets she changed last Friday, and my Le Creuset cast iron, which she deep-cleaned that day, sits gleaming on the stove.
Whenever Norma came to our house for the weekly cleaning, I would offer her coffee or water. She always accepted with a warm smile, grateful yet humble. Norma was cheerful in her work, carrying out each task with care and an unmistakable sense of dignity. She treated her work not as a chore but as a meaningful way to contribute, pouring her heart into everything she did.
Her gentleness extended to everyone around her, even to our two dogs, Norma’s kindness was ever-present, a testament to the beautiful person she was. Even in the smallest gestures, she reminded us of the beauty of approaching life and work with love and respect.
For no specific reason, I thought of practicing Spanish with Norma in the last few months. Although I cannot speak more than 10 Spanish words, she was cheerful and carefully helped my pronunciation.
When someone as gentle and beautiful as Norma leaves this world, it leaves a void that words cannot fully express. Her smile—so warm and genuine—her quiet strength, and her authentic care for everyone she encountered are things I will carry with me forever.
For most of her life, she didn’t have a green card in this country, yet she raised two wonderful daughters on her own. Norma was so young, and she faced all her hardships in life with a smile and hard work.
I can imagine the moment when she felt the sudden pain in her head just before the fatal stroke—her vacuum cleaner still in her trunk, her own clothes still un-folded. Norma never had a Le Creuset, though she cleaned plenty of them. I’m pretty sure she never had time to check her blood pressure or cholesterol, no time to visit a doctor, and no medical insurance to do so.
The hard fact is that your socioeconomic condition largely decides the quality and length of your life. Our society owes Norma so much, so much, we collectively owe Norma so much, I owe Norma so much.
Writing this, I suddenly felt that Eulogy is not for the dead, but for the living, rather. So we can put aside our “so-called issues” and see there are people less fortunate than us, but live an exemplary life of dignity, humility. I always thought death is the great equalizer, for the rich and poor, famous and unknown, genius or uninitiated, we all have to face the End. But not in this case, Norma left this world too early, too soon.
The world has not been kind to Norma, but Norma has been kind to the world.
I don’t like to go to funerals, especially for those who are younger than me, but I want to say Adiós to you, Norma, even though you won’t be able to correct my Spanish pronunciation one last time. Adiós, Norma. I commit you to God; you cleaned not only our rooms but also our hearts.
Norma Maricruz Aguilar Hernandez passed away on January 6, 2025, the last few days were the coldest days in Houston this winter, bitterly cold… I hope heaven is a warm place.
Isaac Shi
January 8th, 2025
