The Legacy of a Mother’s Love
- Lisa Campos
- 2 hours ago
- 9 min read
(This article was written by Lisa Campos and was featured in the May2026 issue of Explore Harlingen Magazine.)
They say grief is love with nowhere to go. And I have grieved the loss of many family members, including my father, Roberto Ignacio Campos in 2018, and my former husband, Carlos Javier Lopez in 2023. But the grief I have over my mother’s passing in 2020 takes up the most space in my heart.
My mother, Gaudencia Hernandez Campos, was one of a kind. I had the privilege of being raised by my idol: a woman who owned her own business, was a devoted wife, was beloved by her community, and was a nurturing mother to her four children (Gloria Yvonne, Deborah “Debbie” Ann, Robert Ignacio, Jr., and myself, Clarissa “Lisa” Denise).
Mom was born in Donna, Texas, the only child of Elvira Tamez and Felipe Hernandez. She was a graduate of Harlingen High School class of 1950 and attended Pan American University. On November 1, 1953, she married my father, Roberto I. Campos. They were happily married for 64 years before he passed away on June 11, 2018.
Shortly after dad’s passing, mom slipped at home and was sent to Golden Palms for rehabilitation. She ended up never going home after that. She moved into an assisted living apartment at Golden Palms until our family moved her out during the pandemic. Because of the lockdown protocols, we had been restricted from visiting her and did not want her to be alone without us. She went to live with my sister Debbie for a few months before she passed away in her sleep on October 29, 2020, with my sister Gloria asleep next to her.
Mom went by the name Gaudi since Gaudencia was a mouthful for others to say or attempt to spell. She’d introduce herself, “Gaudi, as in ‘howdy,’ I’m Gaudi,” letting new people know how to say her name by teaching them a rhyme. She used to say she wanted an Audi car so she could put a capital G in front of the logo. That way everyone would know that car was hers. She was funny like that.
Growing up, my sisters were considerably older than me (18 years and 13 years respectably), so it was just me and my brother (who is 6 years older than me) in my pink brick childhood home on Rio Hondo Road. My mom, who had been a housewife, decided to start her own business, Gaudi Campos Employment Agency, in the 1980s and 1990s, when I was in school. She helped many people with resume writing, interviewing skills, and getting their first jobs. Looking back, she was a pioneer who inspired other female entrepreneurs to pave their own paths.
When I was off from school in the summers, I would spend my days at the office with her. At one point I got to answer the office telephone (“Hello, Gaudi Campos Employment Agency, how may I help you?”) and even learn how to use a typewriter so I could help my mom type up index cards about each candidate. In high school, one crowning achievement I had was typing 80 words per minute without errors in my Typing class. I remember mom proudly displaying my perfect typing test up on the refrigerator held up by magnets, knowing my summers at her office enabled me to reach that accomplishment.
During this time, my mom was very active in the Harlingen community. She was one of the first female members of the Six Shooters, the Harlingen Chamber’s official greeters and ambassadors. I found her red Six Shooters jacket after her passing. And I finally recognized my work with Explore Harlingen as a business so I could become a member of the Greater Harlingen Chamber of Commerce. As soon as I became a member, I became an ambassador so I could proudly wear her jacket to ribbon cutting and groundbreaking ceremonies. I found some peppermints and business cards in the jacket pockets; my mom believed fresh breath was a must when meeting new people.
In elementary school, I was a good student. But mom wanted me to be better. She would pull out my sister Gloria’s report cards from when she was in elementary school and compare our grades subject by subject. She would note where Gloria scored better than me to push me to try harder. I never lost that competitive spirit.
Another core memory is when mom offered my brother and I some cereal. She said it was Frosted Flakes. However, my brother pointed out that instead of Tony the Tiger on the front of the cereal box, there was a white bear. He took a Sharpie marker, drew stripes on the bear, and put a caption, “They’re pretty good!” We laughed and laughed at mom’s shopping blunder. It’s still funny to me to this day.
We attended church on Sundays at St. Anthony’s Catholic Church. I loved singing with my mom in church. We weren’t the best singers, but we might have been the loudest. I knew many psalms by heart, always trying not to look at the psalm book to prove that I had memorized them. One psalm in particular that we liked “One Bread, One Body” became an inside joke when we’d eat at Chapita’s. They had a breakfast plate called “One Egg, One Pancake,” and my brother used to sing the name of it in the style of “One Bread, One Body.”
My mom used to be a lector at St. Anthony’s. A lector is the person who stands up at the podium and reads scriptures aloud to the church attendees. When I was in high school, she let me fill in for her when it was her turn to read. I really enjoyed being a lector in high school, so much so that I continued to lector at the University Catholic Center in Austin, Texas, while attending the University of Texas at Austin, and into adulthood. It was selfless of my mom to let me take her place as lector when I know she enjoyed it just as much as I did.
Another tradition was going to Luby’s after church. Occasionally, mom and I would share a strawberry shortcake. It always felt like a special occasion when we’d eat that dessert together. But we didn’t always go out to eat. My mom cooked a lot. She would make a package of ground beef last throughout the week by making crispy tacos one night and spaghetti with meat sauce another. However, her best dish may have been her fideo with chicken. As soon as she served it, the whole skillet would disappear. I have tried to replicate it, but I haven’t come close yet.
In high school, I used to participate in poetry, prose, and oration competitions. One piece, “I Loved You Best” by Erma Bombeck was mom’s favorite. It was a story of a mother who wrote each of her adult children a sealed letter to read alone after her funeral. At the end of each letter, she closed with “I loved you best,” leaving each child satisfied, thinking he or she was the mother’s favorite child. It was his or her secret that would not be shared with his or her siblings. When I would practice reading this story with mom, she would wink at me and say, “I loved you best.” Although I know she loved all her children equally, it was our little secret.
As I was about to graduate from high school, and it was only me at home with my parents, my mom and I became very close. I would say we were best friends. But I believe her fear of me graduating and leaving her with an empty nest made her pick fights with me about the boys I was interested in. Even then, I tried to understand her position and knew she didn’t mean to push me away.
I left Harlingen to attend the University of Texas at Austin in 1990. After graduation from college, I moved around Texas, living in Houston and Dallas, but spent most of my adulthood in Austin. Then, I got married late in life and had my daughter right before I turned 41. We made the decision to move back to Harlingen (my husband was also from Harlingen) after Lola Elise Lopez was born in 2013 so Lola could be closer to our families.
When I broke the news that I was having a baby girl and moving back to Harlingen, my mom exclaimed, “I thought this day would never come.” And I responded, “Neither did I.”
Although our marriage ended a short while later, I don’t regret moving back to Harlingen. Lola got to know her maternal grandfather and grandmother in her first few years. Lola was my parents’ only granddaughter. My mom loved her immensely. She was such a wonderful grandmother to my nephews Robert, Gregory, and Anthony. I only regret waiting so late in life to add Lola to the grandchildren roster when mom was younger and would have had more energy to spend with Lola.
It was a challenging time in my life with aging parents and a young child as a single parent at the same time. I saw a lot of similarities in their dependence on me, like how I had to help both my mom and daughter open water bottles. And, how to please them with the simplest of gestures. I remember giving my parents a printed picture of Lola and they kissed the picture. That’s something you can’t really do with a digital image on a phone. Or I would go to Luby’s to buy mom fried okra or Church’s Chicken to buy her a corn on the cob. She would be so happy with these small acts of kindness.
In 2018, when Lola was 5 years old, we traveled to New Orleans to watch the Texas Longhorns football team defeat the Georgia Bulldogs in the Sugar Bowl. We found a bright pink sparkly hat with the word Lucky written on it at a store during that trip. I bought it for my mother, who loved anything with bling, whether it be a sequined jacket or glittery hat. Mom wore her Lucky hat to quarter bingo when she was living at Golden Palms and almost always won.
I know the best way to honor my mother is to mirror her nurturing with my own daughter. I try my hardest every day. I’ve been Lola’s only parent since she was 3 (she’ll be 13 in May). It has been a tough road.
I remember at one point after the divorce I considered selling my house so I could save on expenses by getting an apartment. My mom urged “You don’t want to go backwards,” and encouraged me to keep my house, even though it was difficult to do it on my own.
When my mom passed away, I, along with my siblings, received an inheritance. I used this money to go towards paying off my home mortgage. To have a paid-off house, especially as a single parent, is nothing short of a miracle. And it’s because of my parents that I was able to accomplish that goal. But honestly, I’d rather have them still alive.
Lola’s father passed away in 2023 after a lifelong battle with alcoholism. I haven’t remarried or even had a steady relationship since 2016. My standards and expectations are high because of the model that my parents set with their relationship. I can’t seem to find a partner who has what I am looking for. I need someone to not only be good to me, but to serve as a positive father figure to my daughter. If he can’t meet that minimum, then I’d rather stay alone.
I’ve always tried to give my daughter more of everything since it’s been the two of us since she was 3 years old. I feel compelled to give her the love of two parents. People may think she’s spoiled, but she’s all I got. And I am all she has. Sometimes it feels like we are on a deserted island by ourselves. However, we are not only surviving, but we are also thriving as a mother-daughter team. The strong relationship I had with my mother is forefront in my mind as I navigate my relationship with my daughter.
My last words to my mother in her last waking moments, spoken through tears, were, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” But not even those words were enough to tell her how much she meant to me. This article is another attempt to convey those feelings to the person who shaped me into the woman I am today.
Six years after her passing, my mother continues to be my guiding light and my inspiration in everything I do.
Mom, of all the different roles I have played in my life, I miss being a daughter. I miss being your daughter. I’ll never stop loving you and I will never forget you and the sacrifices you made for me. I am fortunate to have had a love like yours and I will continue to wear my grief for you with honor. Happy Mother’s Day in heaven.
beautiful tribute to your family. your mom would be proud