Saying goodbye to my mother

With Mom, and my son Ty. 

Two days ago, my Mom passed away. Earlier on in the tour, when I found out that she was terminal, I flew home to see her, tell her that I love her and that I’ll miss her, but also to let her know that when she is ready to go, she should go, without any feelings of guilt or worry about who she is leaving behind. Despite that, being who she is, she still hung on until I was just about done with the tour and I will always be eternally grateful for that.

She went the same way my Dad went; painlessly, peacefully, relatively quickly, and surrounded by love, respect and admiration. She deserved that.

My mom has been sick my whole life. I remember her telling me that before I was born when she was in her early 30s, during a medical examination, a doctor asked her “How are you still alive?”

Despite continual health problems and constant pain, not only did she manage to have me, but she went on to become a doctor herself, graduating from medical school at a time when women were unheard of, and black women even more so. (She was one of only two black women in her class). As an emergency room doctor, she saved a lot of people’s lives and working in the occupation health field, she never stopped believing that everyone can heal, mental, physically and spiritually. She was that one doctor that would never ever give up on a patient; and who wouldn’t let patients give up on themselves. In her personal life, when people were too weak to stand, she would carry them. I can’t recall how many times in my life we had people who were down and out living in our house; and how many of them I saw go on to do amazing things afterwards. She stayed this way literally right up until she passed away. And even though no one- not even the people in our family- though she would last this long, she lived long enough to see have 10 grandchildren and to know her first great grandchild, who was named after my Dad. (Sitting on her lap on the left)

With Lonnie, her first great grandchild and my son Ty. 

In closing, I’d like to paraphrase something she told me about working in an emergency room. “When people are depending on you, you can’t lose your focus. After all is said and done, and the dust has settled, then you can cry, you can mourn, you can buckle at the knees, or you can scream out at the top of your lungs if you have to. But until then, you just gotta grind.” Love you Mom. Thank you for making me who I am.