Ms. Geraldine's Story

In her younger years, my mother was a beautiful, classy, sophisticated fox...She was a talented, and amazing artist. She could draw stunningly realistic images. She was fashionable and worked downtown Chicago. From what I was told, she was well on her way to becoming whatever she wanted to be in life. A few years before I was born, she was out with a person she was dating at the time. Something tragic happened that night. The man she was with shot my mother in the head and left her to die.

Somehow, she was found and taken to the hospital, and thankfully she was still alive. No one knows what happened to the man that did this to my mother, and again all the details I have been told are murky. She was almost in a vegetative state and became a person that could not function without any help. My grandmother and the rest of my family nursed her back to health through home rehab, prayer, and a lot of love.

A few years later in 1977, I was born. So in essence, I am a miracle. I could very well not be here today. I remember her as a kind, funny, and affectionate, mother. I know she loved me as no one else loved me. She called me her best friend, and she was mine too. She was everything to me, and even through all of her struggles I revered her. My mother dealt with depression and other health issues. She was resilient, and even though she was never really the same after what happened to her, she did the best she could. My mother had such good intentions for me. She always told me how she felt about me, and how proud she was of me. What she thought of me meant the world to me.

As I got older she was always talking about having a grandchild. I was still in college, and having a child was the furthest thing from my mind. The last time I heard her voice was in November of 2000. I was leaving to go back to school from Thanksgiving break. She kept trying to give me money, and I kept refusing it, but she made me take it. She had a stroke a few days later, and couldn't speak anymore.

I had to leave school for a month to come home to see her. Then on January 25th, 2001, I received a phone call from the hospital. With me being the only child, I had to be the one to make that decision. I'll never forget Yolanda Adams ''Open Up My Heart" was playing on the radio on my way to the hospital. I stayed with her until she transitioned. It was just us two in the room. Watching her leave did something to me. Whenever I hear that Yolanda Adams song, even to this day nearly 20 years later, tears form...

Every now and then, I feel bad that I didn't graduate in enough time for her to see me get my degree. I feel bad that she didn't get to see the grandchild she wanted so badly. I can only imagine how happy it would have made her to see him. Sometimes, when I look at my son, I see a glimpse of her. I believe one of the reasons that I give my son so much love is that my mother's heart is very much a part of me. He deserves those extra hugs, those extra kisses. I wish they could have met, and I know it's not my fault they didn't. God knew what he was doing. I'll make sure he knows all about her. He will know he has an extra guardian angel.