My ma. Momma… mother… MA!!! (When she acts like she can’t damnit hear.) This woman is the quintessential essential. Now, before I begin to speak about Ida Mae, I have to thank God for all that I’m able to say about this woman and for him given me the opportunity, the ablity the patience, and the long awaited time to NOW appreciate all that she has done for me.

Now, back to ms. Ida mae. Now, ms. Ida mae raised two daughters of her own, me being the second. My first memory of Ida was her kneeling down to my level and explaining to me that that day was my birthday. I was three years old. I remember thinking to myself 'so what, ma?" I guess in my three year old mind, I couldn't grasp the importance of such date... but best believe now i do. Anyway, I always knew my mother as the caretaker, the nurturer and for the longest time, I thought that this was her government appointed job, this is what she was SUPPOSE to do. She was suppose to praise my receiving a 100% on my spelling test, she was obligated to beat my ass when I got caught chewing gum in class when I wasn’t suppose to and her rightful duty to clean up my cuts and bruises received from scraping on the block while giving me a good scolding about fighting once again,.... ‘bo, you ain’t no boy. Stop all of that damn fightin’”. It was when I was having problems with my upstairs neighbors while living in Brooklyn that it dawned on me. I was walking with my mom from my apartment building to the train station and we were talking about me writing another letter to the landlord. She said something under her breath and I can’t recall at the moment what was said but I remember saying to her, ‘I’m not worried about them.’ She said to me ‘bo, even though you are grown, that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you. You are still my child’ (dabbing away the tears). It wasn’t like I never thought my mother worried about me, but I guess it was when it was vocalized, when she actually expressed with her own mouth her worries that I knew and understood her being my mom wasn’t her job, that her being my disciplinary wasn’t her appointed duty, that her being my on-call doctor wasn’t her responsibility. Her loving, her caring, her devotion…all of it…it was all her privilege, her honor. I love Ida Mae. I credit her for everything I am…with everything I am not. I am glad for every argument that we have had for I am pretty sure, in her absence, I was made to suffer a hard learn lesson that I wouldn’t allow her to teach me anyway. She was and still is the benchmark…. And I think I turned out pretty damn well. This is your day, Ms. Ida Mae…. I love you more than in all of the days in my life I would be able to express. You have shown me that blessings aren’t only in a child, but also in the parent.

I love you, ma.

Love, bo