IN HONOR OF
My mother
“She became my best friend”
Growing up, I was the fourth of six kids. I thought I had the best life. All that began to change when I was two. My father walked out. I was lucky to have such a strong mother. She taught me to be the responsible young women I am today, and I thank her for that. I would always have my hand out to her for something -- shoes, sneakers, clothes -- and as many times as I would ask, she would never say no.
When I was 15, my mother broke some devastating news to us. She explained that she had cancer. I decided to make the best of everything and spend a lot of time with her. We did everything -- from shopping to going out to eat. She became my best friend.
Now I am 19, and it is the beginning of the New Year, and my mom is even sicker than I last remember. She is unable to breathe on her own. She cannot walk on her own. Witnessing my mom like this hurt me to my heart. I was so used to seeing her on her feet, joking and playing with her kids and grandkids.
January 25, 2010, was the worst day of my life. I had a great day in school. I learned so many new things. The last bell had rung; I hurried to my bus. My cousin called me just as the buses were leaving. She told me that she needed to talk, but didn’t want to do it over the phone. I wanted to know then and there. She finally gave in and told me that she had heard from one of my other cousins that my mom had died. I yelled and told her that she was lying. She began to cry, and that only made me cry.
My sister and I walked home as if nothing was ever said. We kept good thoughts flowing through our heads. We stopped off at the flower store and bought my mother’s favorite: red roses. I arrived home. I began to walk to my room. I bumped into my little brother. His eyes were red. My heart pounded. I turned around and saw my uncle. I asked him what’s wrong with my brother. He looked in my eyes and said, “Baby girl, your mom passed away.” I broke down on my knees and cried. He held me and told me everything was going to be alright.
I felt like I was left in this dark, cold world by myself, with no one to help me along. I still don’t believe she’s gone. She was only 46. I have to keep my head and get through this, one step at a time. I just have to remember that she will always be there looking over me while I take this journey through life to the highest ground.
Graduation is right around the corner and that is going to be the hardest day for me. I won’t have that motherly love in the audience to cry for me as I walk across the stage. I will be doing all that for her, as well as for myself. I want her to be happy that I am going to be the first one out of her six kids to actually graduate high school.
My mother’s passing has made me really open up my eyes, and see life in a different way. I realize that life is not a game. Take advantage of every chance you are given, because yesterday is gone, today is over, and tomorrow is never promised.
painting by Li Huang // Artists for Humanity
The author's mother, Shirley R. Brown.
My grandfather
“He was my dad when I didn’t know mine”
I was born, like everybody else, to a mother and a father. The difference is, I was born prematurely and my dad wasn’t around. Many days I wish I could have stayed longer inside my mom, but it wasn’t meant to be.
The sun used to embrace me like a friend, making sure I never lacked warmth. The best day of my life was a cold summer day; it was cloudy and freezing – well, as freezing as it’ll get in the tropics. It was the day I met my father.
He was everything I’d imagined, yet he was nothing like it. Even though it was cold, I was warm in my father’s arms, because I felt the love. Last year, I lost my grandfather. He was my dad when I didn’t know mine; my mentor, my guardian angel, and my reason to live. The day I was told, a part of me died. I was depressed and wouldn’t talk to anyone for weeks. My family and friends tried to console me, but I wouldn’t let them. He’d said not to cry because he would be in a better place, but I cried even harder knowing that place wasn’t with me.
When I was little, I always saw the good in people before I saw the bad -- even when everyone else saw that the person was no good. Since then, I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer; to be the one to prove someone innocent, to help people get their lives back, and to help the ones not fortunate enough to afford representation.
I plan to make a difference, no matter how small. I was born like everyone else, but my greatness will not compare.
painting by Jameel Radcliffe // Artists for Humanity
My sister
“I will never forget her in my life”
My sister’s name was Kelidade. She was 16, in tenth grade. I gave her a nickname: Keke. She lived in Haiti at the time of the accident. She was my sister on my father’s side. She was the only person that I could talk with when I had a secret -- even though I’m here. I would buy a phone card to call and tell her what I had to say. But now, I don't know who I’m going to call when I have to say my secrets.
She was pretty, intelligent, kind, and everything. She died in the earthquake on January 12, 2010. That is why I wrote this poem for her. Her mom told me a little about how she died. Her mom said that she was inside the house when the earthquake started, and she did not have time to get out, and the house fell on her. Her mother was at work. Keke had just returned from school.
I will never forget her in my life -- even to the day I die.
“Someone”
She was always nice to me, every time I saw her.
She was my everything: my life, my breath, my spirit.
She wiped my tears when I was crying.
Every time I was with her, she made me happy.
When I was sad, she always tried to raise the sun into my life,
and bring happiness back to me.
She helped me to stay awake when I was falling asleep.
She was my water when I was thirsty.
She was my food when I was hungry.
She was a faithful person, she was a strong woman; kind and helpful.
For me, everything about her was special.
Even now, her spirit is deep inside me.
Even though she's not on the earth with me right now,
I hope she is in God’s hands.
This person was my little sister.
I love you, Keke.
R.I.P.
The author's sister, Keke.
My country
“You are my one and only”
"Haiti"
Haiti, my love,
Haiti, the beauty of the world,
Your sun is shining at night,
It is windy.
Everyone wants to taste you like a candy.
In my mind, you will still stay my favorite,
and my baby.
No matter where I go,
I cannot taste the honey that you have.
You are my one and only.
I will make you mine one day.
Haiti has no mouth to speak, or to explain
what happened to her, my love.
Since the day I was born, I felt in love with you.
I cannot imagine that you would be in a
situation like this, with so much pain.
Haiti, I want you to know, I'm dying.
Give hope, give love.
The earth shakes, people disappear.
It was an earthquake that separated me
from my sisters and brothers.
Haiti, you will still be the keeper of my heart.
photo by Rich Philippe // Artists for Humanity