On my first day of Kindergarten in 1980, I met a young girl named Jewel Hall. Jewel was probably the only non-Hispanic black girl in Public School #2 back in the 80's. Quite a "sign-of'the-times", huh? LOL. For most of my Elementary School years, her mother worked as the Crossing Guard on 51st and Broadway. Her name was Porscha, but through the years I would grow to call her "Mother Love".

Jewel and I have always shared a very special bond... a reminder to each other of a time of innocence in our lives... back to when Santa was still real, and so was the Easter Bunny. Jewel and I remained classmates up until our senior year at high school, but little did I expect back then how much Jewel, her sister, Nichele, and Mother Love would come to mean to me.

In 1999, when I moved into my first apartment, I threw a small house-warming party. Jewel and her mother were the first to arrive ~ and with food enough for everyone and anyone else who would show up. The leftovers kept me fed for days. I was floored, and so grateful.  I couldn't believe that someone would put so much time aside in their lives to do something so generous for me. They were genuinely and sincerely happy for me. Their housewarming gift was a gorgeous blue glass bowl that has sat center on my kitchen table in both of my apartments (always filled with fruit), and will have the same place of honor on our dining room table once we finish unpacking.

This polaroid was taken the day of that party, back in 1999. That's Jewel, myself, and Mother Love. I have no idea whose legs those are... but obviously... not mine. LOL.

A few years later, Mother Love and her daughters would move out to Las Vegas. Contact between us became sporadic through the years. We lost contact for awhile. Then regained it. An e-mail here. A phone call there. There just never seems to be enough time in our days to reach out to the ones we love, but they have NEVER been far from my thoughts.

Mother Love was the first adult... the first mother-figure in my life to tell me that there was nothing wrong with me ~ that I was just fine the way I was. It sounds like such a small thing when put to paper, but to a young teenage boy whose thoughts secretly turned too often to suicide, those kind words of support from such a strong maternal figure, from such a strong woman... made him choose life.

Wednesday night, I received a call from Jewel. I hadn't heard from her in quite some time, so when I picked up the phone my heart and voice were filled with joy... until Jewel spoke...

"Robert, are you sitting down?"

She told me her mother had been previously diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. Mother Love had passed away 7:30 am that morning. I can't tell you how difficult typing those last two sentences just were.

Jewel and Nichele have lost their mother, and I have lost the woman I have always wished had been mine. I never told her that. I guess partially out of some level of embarrassment, or perhaps fear of being regarded as just silly or over-emotional... perhaps it would have acknowledged issues at home, that I wasn't ready to yet acknowledge. Who knows... but I should have told her that. I really wish I had.

I saw my cousin's uncle pass away from Pancreatic Cancer. It's not an easy road for the family. I can only just imagine what Jewel and Nichele have gone through (and continue to). How I wish I had the money and means right now to fly down to Vegas to see them. Hug them. Cry with them. Laugh with them. Be at Mother Love's wake, and see her layed to rest. There's a part of me that just doesn't want to believe it's true. I would have loved for her to meet Brighton, and be at our wedding. It would have meant the world to me.

I asked Jewel to please send me something of her mother's... a penny she carried in her pocket... a tissue... I don't care... anything. I just want something of hers with me.

~ I love you, Mother Love... Rest In Peace... and... Thank You ~