By Jerome Pearson
January 2020
What if all this is happening while you are only in the first grade, and only 3 weeks after celebrating your seventh birthday?
What if one Friday morning before school your mother helps you pull a sweater over your head and then adjusts the sleeves of your shirt for the very last time?
What if on that Friday you return from school and you notice your mother eating rice, which is something you have never seen her do? You find it remarkable because she has always hated rice!
What if you would later go to bed that night not knowing that it would be the last night you would share with your mother?
What if you wake up the next morning not knowing that all future mornings will be drastically different from those you are now experiencing? The very next morning will be the saddest morning of your short life!
What if your mother goes into town shopping on that Saturday morning and you don’t realize that again this is the last time, she will go shopping?
What if your mother returned from shopping on Saturday and you notice that she is not feeling well? What if you dismiss this “not feeling well” as just a passing thing; not knowing that this “not feeling well” is about to lead to the most shocking thing you might ever experience in your life?
What if you observed later that afternoon that your mother is being taken to the hospital? You can see her being taken to the car. But even then, you would have no reason to think that it would be the last time you would see your mother alive.
What if you can remember the men who took her to the car? What if you can remember the color and model of the car she is being driven in? What if the car is a black and white 1961 Ford Fairlane? What if the Car is being driven by a man name Talmage Nelson? What if his friend, also in the car, is a man named Willie (WM) Pearson? What if the lady sitting in the car with your mother is her sister, Rebecca? Could you have known then that from that day onward your mother would now be your mother’s sister?
What if you awoke around 9:30 pm on that same Saturday night with news so shocking that you would forever be immune to being shocked again? No matter what happens to you in the future, nothing could ever replace that shock. All other shocks would be secondary! You have now become vaccinated against shocks.
What if during those short seven years of living you just assumed that your mother would always be there? You never anticipated that your life could be turned upside down so drastically and quickly.
What if the reality you thought existed is no longer real? All the dreams you were able to accumulate during those short seven years are now clouded by another reality.
What if your mother would be eulogized the following Thursday at New Light Baptist Church? What if she would later be buried at St. Matthews Cemetery? What if there is a ritual where all her kids are passed over her grave? Each small kid is lifted on one side of the grave and handed to another person on the opposite side of the grave.
What if over the next several months all your siblings split up and lived in other homes? Only you would be living with your mother’s sister.
What if you had to continue to live your own life? You would have to figure out a way to negotiate your way through future trials and tribulations; continue to do well in school; show the world that those A’s you received during the first half of your first school year were no fluke; that the smile your mother showed when she saw your first report card would be a smile that she would continue to have from above and that perhaps one day, you would be able to do things, travel to places, and have experiences that neither you nor your mother could ever have imagined!
What if after so many years you have never forgotten your mother; there are so many things you wish you could have done with your mother; so many conversations you wished you could have had; so many questions you wish could have been answered, yet in some strange way you have always communicated with her; there is an internal and spiritual dialogue between you and your mother that no one else is privy to.
What if someone were to ask you what is your greatest gift?
What if you replied that “it is my memory!”
What if they asked, “why your memory?”
What if it has been your memory that has afforded you the ability to make seven years last forever?
What if your memory has been your greatest blessing?
What if you never forget?
Ethel Pearson Roberts, May 1936- Jan 16, 1965
Your forever-loving son, Jerome!