On July 31, 1960, in Dade County of Miami, Fl, the most influential woman of my life was born. That woman is none other than, Mrs. S.R. Rouse, my mother. Being born in a swamp to a mother who is homeless is not the most glamorous way to enter the world. But she did, despite my grandmother’s repeated attempts to abort her.
A couple of months later, in 1961, my mother and grandmother caught a greyhound bus to Rochester, NY to live with my grandfather. It was during this time that my mother’s eclectic taste in music began. At home she listened to the classical greats which were occasionally intermittent with the sounds of smooth jazz and at her babysitters she got down to the Motown greats.
That is until 4 years later, when the most devastating moment occurred in her life. Early one morning, while my grandfather was at work, she watched my grandmother, who had rented a U-Haul truck, move everything thing out except the dust bunnies. Gone were her happy days and off to D.C. they went. She became mute for a year.
2 years later, after finally opening back up to society, she watched my grandmother throw a man out of a glass window and into the middle of the street after he had attacked my mother. It was at that moment that my mother realized that the monster the Japanese people were running from was really my grandmother. That is until a couple of months later when my grandmother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. At death’s door and rail thin, my grandmother was given only a 50% chance of survival. My mother began to live with the constant and crippling fear that she would lose her mother. That is until…
Decade 2 (11-20) Moving Forward
5 years later, at age 11, my mother breathed a sigh of relief when my grandmother’s cancer was in remission. After such a rocky start to life, my mother became quite thick-skinned. Little bothered her anymore. Weighing a mere 68lbs in middle school, my mother stood up to the white people who tried to attack her when they began busing blacks to white schools. In high school, now at a hearty 89lbs, she stood beside my grandmother, who suffered heart attack and knew that no matter what happened in that moment it wasn’t the end of the world. After graduating in 1978 and because of her lack of academic prowess, she joined the post office where she met my dad. Which began…
Decade 3 (21-30) Until Death Do Us Part...or your death can be arranged…
This is was the answer my mother gave my father when first asked if she would marry him. In her mind his proposal was a pure joke. Why would he, tall, suave, and built, want her, skinny! But at the age of 23 she was married which began a new murky chapter in her life. Despite my father’s constant infidelities she stayed with him and two years later my brother was born. But it wasn’t long after that she received another blow. While pregnant with her second her child, she watched her once active son withdraw from society and a couple of months later left the doctor’s office in tears when they told her he had autism. The news caused such stress that my mother began to show signs of a miscarriage but somehow was still pregnant. It was a couple of months later that she gave birth to her funny valentine, me. But that joyous occasion was overshadowed by the still birth of my twin. Determined not to dwell in the past she pressed forward into…
Decade 4 (31-40) I bought you into this world and I WILL take you out!
These were the words my brother and I often heard while growing up. When repeatedly asking for permission to for something previously denied she would look sternly in our faces and say, “Now, what part of no don’t you understand.” At that point we knew it was time to retreat and send the troops home. Our mother ruled with an iron fist because she wanted her kids to be more than what their environment offered. We lived in the south side of D.C. and the success rate for kids even making it out of high school alive was slim to none. She pulled my brother out of Public School and began to teach him at home because of the rampant inequality he faced as a special needs student. All the while she continued to push me academically so I could get into a better school. Her efforts were not in vain. But our appreciation for her was absent. Until…
Decade 5 (41-50) It was the best of times…it was the worst of times…
The most horrifying moment of my life occurred at age 16 as I held my mother while she had stroke. While unable to move or voice the pain she was feeling, all of what she had done for me and been to me came rushing back. It was in that moment that I realized that this woman is to me what words can’t express. Her constant love and support helped me to believe I was able to do anything. Her endless pushing and prodding created a fiery determination in me. The incredibly high standard that she set for me taught me that my opportunities were limitless. All these things, including her words of wisdom, did not make me into the woman that she is. It made me better, which was her goal all along. Today we honor this woman for the 5 decades that she has lived and today we pray that she sees 5 decades more.
