Somehow, each year is always like the last when it comes to "remembering" my mother. Whether it be her birthday or the anniversary of her death, I'm always left feeling a certain way, a way that in no way involves closure. Out of all the dates and all the loved ones, her dates are the ones that are forever etched in my mind. July 2nd, June 5th, and today, May 31st. I can still remember words and actions, and reactions, yet, I still can't remember her voice or her smell - those things aren't brought back by time or through photographs - apparently, neither is healing. I don't really know when I'll ceased to be affected in this way.

For the first time in a long time, I was able to take some flowers up to the cemetery on one of her actual dates. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't cry. Not because I no longer needed to, but because I had Miss J with me. It was a very quick visit, I couldn't risk losing it in front of the baby, she wouldn't fully understand, or maybe I'd like to think that she wouldn't understand so that she wouldn't be left with the task of comforting me. I was once comforted by a complete stranger on one of my cemetery visits, although I'd much rather be comforted by my grandmother, but she refuses to visit the my mother's grave with me. I try to understand why.

There isn't anything left to say except that I am affected the same in year 18, as I was in year 1.

When you lose your parent(s) before you have formed your own identity, do you ever recover?

As you all know, I walked it on out back in May. I was in full graduation ceremony mode, participating in like, FOUR of them. I had my department commencement, a scholarship dinner, a commencement for student parents, and I also participated in the commencement for Black graduates. I practically spent the month of May in and out of cap and gown. There were plenty of enjoyable moments from these ceremonies, like when Miss J walked across the stage with me during my department graduation, and when my Cal mommies and I got to celebrate our accomplishments together during our student parent ceremony. There were also some bittersweet moments, like the fact that my grandfather was in Mississippi for the month and missed out on the happiness. He really wanted to be there, and was saddened not to see himself in the family pictures.

Lucky for him, we all have the opportunity to do it all over again. Well, maybe not "all" of it, but I do have the opportunity to participate in the December commencement ceremony for December graduates. Since this is officially my very last semester as a Cal student, THAT'S ME! Sure, I wouldn't be walking with any of my friends this time, but at least this would give my grandfather the opportunity to be a part of the experience as he should be. He is currently on another trip to MS, but gave me the go ahead to get all signed up because he'll be back home by the date. So, looks like its on. Back in the cap and gown, and time to flip that tassel to the left, to the left.

Is it almost that time of the year again? The time permitting chills and thrills, tricks and treats, and freedom to use our creative licenses to be anything that we want to be? I think so. Seems like just yesterday I was sporting a mask and whip, fighting crime with my favorite little super shero. This year, she will fight crime alone, but she will be just as super.

What adventures do you have in store for the 31st?

I thoroughly enjoyed the Michael Jackson Tribute performance put on by the MTV Video Music Awards tonight. The dancers were on point, as I am guessing they had no other choice but to be on point under the watchful eyes of Janet and Laurieann Gibson. While the majority of viewers are still fixated on trying to figure out why Kanye West would dare be so... Kanye, I am thinking of no other moment than when Janet left her heart on that stage. It was bittersweet seeing her dance with her brother. It was such a Natalie, Nat King Cole, Unforgettable moment for me. You could see it in her movements, in her facial expressions, that she is carrying a lot of pain and anger. I think that what Madonna said in her speech is the very thing that Janet displayed in her performance.

Throughout this entire ordeal, I have felt the most for Janet. She was Michael's baby sister, and they were very close. Whenever Michael's world was turned upside down, or at its peak, Janet was right there by his side. I guess I am thinking back to the happiness and love that was expressed at the 1993 Grammy Awards.





Such appreciation and genuine affection.



I am hoping that Janet will get the closure that she needs, although, I know first hand that closure is something like a myth. It never really happens, we just tell ourselves that it has happened to make us feel better. Nonetheless, her performance tonight makes me think that she may be on her way into the healing process. Perhaps she will do another interview with Oprah in the coming months/years or pour her soul into an album that will mirror the feelings that helped produce the Velvet Rope album. Who knows...

Tune in to the Oprah show on Wednesday 9/16 to watch the interview that she did with Michael in 1993. It was just as big back then, as her interview with Whitney Houston will become over the next couple of days.

We are still in celebration/remembrance/tribute mode over here.

We gathered ourselves,

Popped some bottles,

Set the channel,

and,

Just felt Michael.

This is one of my favorites from Michael Jackson, along with Scream, Jam, Remember the Time, and the list goes on and on... right over in my bTunes... and that doesn't even cover the scope of what I love about the King of Pop. I remember watching the movie Moonwalker (which people are now trying to cash in on over at Amazon!) over and over throughout my 5th grade year because my teacher was very big on music and performance arts back then. We sat in front of the tv in awe and I remember even borrowing the movie from my teacher because I loved it that much.

I can also remember ordering Michael Jackson magazines and taking out all of the posters and covering my walls with them. And this comes from someone who was born in 1984! That's the beauty of Michael's talent and influence, it transcends time. His music has remained relevant and with each new generation his legacy strengthens.

We love you Michael for sharing your gift of entertainment with us. You will be greatly missed.

May 31, 1992. The day I lost my mother. My, how time does fly. How could it have been 17 years ago when it still feels like it happened yesterday? I will never forget sitting in a chair in the living room of my mother's apartment watching the paramedics carry her from her bedroom into the living room to be placed on a stretcher. I will never forget my family sneaking me into my mother's hospital room and sometimes having to argue with the nurses "this is her daughter, she needs to be with her mother". Rules are rules, no children allowed on certain floors, but I always got in. I will never forget the pain on my grandmother's face and the tears in her eyes as she came out to the waiting room and simply said, "she's gone". As I sat on my aunt's lap, I didn't know what that meant. I was only 8 years old. I didn't know the pain and tears that my grandmother had that day were the expression of a mother's loss of her first born, and I didn't know that I too, would feel similar pain, that would be shown in expressions of my own.

I will never forget the small funeral home that held my mother's body. The little place that sat right on the outskirts of my hood. I will always remember walking from my house to that little place and sitting with my mother as she lay in her casket. I will never forget the chill of her hand as I stroked a scar that lay there. What I do not remember is the warmth of her breath, the sound of her voice or the happiness of her laughter. I can't even remember the smell of her fragrance. Perhaps 8 years old was too young for me to know that I should tuck these things away deep in my memory. Perhaps I did tuck them deeply away and pain does not allow me to retrieve them. I don't really know, I just know that I do not have access to them anymore and I wish that I still did.

Unless you have lost a parent as a young child you could never understand that experience. Its not the same experience as growing up with an absent parent. With an absent parent, there is always the possibility of that parent's return. No, the death of a parent is truly a life changing experience, on so many different levels, and it is one of those events in life that shape your very existence. Or at least, it has truly shaped mine. As a child, I questioned God daily about why my mother wasn't allowed to exist. About why "I" had to be drastically different than every other 8 year old that I knew. I can't say that I got an answer to that question, but I did gain more understanding over the years about the time that my mother did exist.

Although I have been missing and grieving my mother for 17 whole years, in a way she is still with me. After her death her energy was still with me for a while. Her cigarette smoke would surround me, my touch-lamp would flicker. But then those things stopped and I felt that she had left me indefinitely. Indefinitely, until her cigarette smoke surrounded me again during a lecture at Cal, and nine months later I gave birth to a little girl, on the same date that my mother was buried.

Time flies, wounds remain fresh...

Today, grills will go ablaze, laughter will fill the air, and memories of loved ones lost will take hold. I will journey into the courtyard and be welcomed by familiar faces, then return hours later bathed in mesquite aroma and rather lethargic. May the same happen for you on this beautiful day.

Mama,

I love, miss, and still long for you.

If only I could remember what your voice sounded like when you used to call me by my nickname,
If only I could remember what your laughter sounded like when we used to play the Nintendo,
If only I could remember what your skin smelled like when we used to lay in your bed together,
If only I could take one more late night trip with you to the store for corn dogs and fudge brownies,
If only you could be here to do all of those things, and so much more with your granddaughter...

For now, I will cherish what I do remember about you,

Like, the way you held my hand as we walked to school in the mornings,
Like, the way you passed down your intelligence and beauty to me,
Like, the way you made sure that I would be taken care of,
Like, the way your hand felt when I said my final goodbye,
Like, the way you loved me more than you loved yourself.

17 years and counting... I love, miss and still long for you.

Love,
Your BoBo

Taking a moment to cherish the memories of birthday celebrations long past. A few years can seem like an eternity to those who were left behind. We who once loved and still love you. Missing the laughter, the home cooked meals, the daily conversations, the soap opera viewings, the warm home and everything that was you. Robbed of hugs and kisses, especially on that last day, when I kissed you and you didn't kiss back.

Today, I still celebrate you and the 85 years that you should have had... until we meet again.

I love you mama.

11-25-23/10-23-05

For most folks, Thanksgiving is all about the bird, but for me, turkey is the last thing that my taste buds crave. I am most content when my plate is overflowing with dressing (not to be confused with stuffing) topped with cranberry sauce and a piece of sweet potato pie on the side. That right there is like heaven to me. Sure, I like all the fixings that get passed around the table, but I keep a set eye on that dressing, always make sure to have a surplus of cranberry sauce on hand and let my grandma know while the mixer is still beating potatoes that I will be taking at least two pies home with me.

This year, my kitchen will be the site of spices, potatoes, pie crust, and other ingredients as I retry my hand at my old favorites. I will resist the urge to call my grandma to walk me through the simple preparation and call on Essence Magazine to do that instead. I found a Sweet Potato Pie recipe to add to my collection. I will also be whipping up some dressing, greens, and chicken breast, instead of turkey. I am looking forward to welcoming my grandparents to my table for a glass of Martinelli's and a wonderful feast.

What are your favorite Thanksgiving dishes?

Meet the woman who raised me. The woman who taught me the meaning of both sacrifice and unconditional love. The woman who was the rock that kept our family grounded and the glue that kept it together. The woman who was known to all, as Bigmama, but who was known to me, simply as mama. Meet my great-grandmother, Exie Bea.

She was an amazing woman, fearless... a pillar of strength and unconditional love. She gave to those who were in need and mothered those who didn't have. She taught me some of life's most valuable lessons. How to master self sacrifice in the name of love, to show bravery in times of fear, and the most valuable of all, to never sit idly by wait for a man or anyone else to take care of you. "You have to know how to do for self cuz I wont always be with you", she'd say.

She died October 23rd, 2005. At a time when the country was trying to wrap their heads around the tragedy that was Katrina, I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had just became motherless all over again. Witnessing the destruction of lung cancer was a traumatic experience for me. I just couldn't believe that a woman who was once so strong was suddenly disappearing before my eyes. Her body was there, but her mind was absent at times. And then went her soul. I thought I would never recover... but I did.

Now, I keep her life and everything that she taught me, tucked away tightly in my heart and in my memory. I take the time to remember her today, I'll remember her always.