Help me send her home

My name is Shantelle, and today I have to share with you my mom’s story. My mom’s name is Lailani Duroy Snell, she came to the states as an immigrant from Manila, Philippines when I was born following my Dad while he was in the Air Force. She came here knowing very little English, and with no family besides myself and my brothers and my dad, shortly after her arrival her and my dad divorced and due to her not having income my father became our soul provider. It took her years to gain stable employment due to not having proper paperwork, and struggling with mental illness which would cause her to go into manic depressions for days and sometimes months at a time so most of the time she worked for cash or under the table jobs until she finally gain full citizenship somewhere around the time I turned 16. My mom had nothing her whole life and with all of the nothing she had, she would share it with anyone she even slightly thought was in need. She never liked to see anyone in pain, she refused to let anyone struggle, or feel like they were alone. I know deep down in her heart she just wanted to prove to me and my brothers that all this time she could care of us, she gave her life and her family up just to try to save literally anyone in front of her. She would go so long without seeing us and then one day like the wind she would be back, introducing us to someone new who desperately needed her help, but really, just another person taking advantage of a woman starving for love. When I became an adult I had children of my own, and my moms mental illness continued to grow worse, she had been in and out of hospitals for years at this point, living between the streets, sometimes with me, sometimes with my brothers, sometimes with strangers depending on the where, how, if and when she felt in that moment, but one thing she made sure we all knew, was the United States was a temporary home and she loved it here because we where here, but her heart and soul belong to the Philippines and with her family. As long as I can remember out of every $5 she made she sent $2 back home. My mom wanted to save enough money to return home by the end of next year. And on November 10, 2021, because of a man name Chassidy Brooks, my moms life was stolen from her while she sat at a bus stop in front of the Jiffy Lube she’d hung out by for as long as I can remember. There are no words that I can really give you guys to understand how I feel, the only ones that are close are: pain, regret, rage, fear, hopelessness, confusion, my soul feels ripped in a way I never knew possible. And all I can do now is beg, beg you all for help to send my mom home. I don’t know what I’m doing and I need help, I never thought this day would come, not like this and not here and definitely not now. I want to just give her what she gave everyone else, peace of mind and what SHE wanted.