writer, Keachia Bowers (right) and mother, Opal

As Mother’s Day fastly approaches, I sit, in silence, and reflect on how my mother has shaped my world. My all too beautiful, Jamaican Queen of a mother. As I look through childhood pictures and close my eyes, I smell the potato pudding baking amidst the fry fish she has on the stove. Not for the traditional Sunday dinner with rice & peas, but for the guests who would be arriving soon to buy a meal. Yes, as my sensory motors take me down memory lane, I see my hard-working, persevering mother in the living room setting up the music system with Gregory Isaacs shouting, “Night Nurse”! As she stops to rock side-to-side, she asks me to dance with her…Oh how I remember this woman working day and night so we all could have a pair of L.A. Gear sneakers (the ones with the light in the back). If I close my eyes tight enough, I see her praying for good health and reminding us, “fi give tanks and praise to fadda God”.

As I reflect on my mother and her influence on me, everything comes together. My inability to slow down, to throw in the towel and say “I can’t”. The reason why I keep trying, the reason why I dance like no one is watching…it all makes sense now. I fully understand why I have this unexplainable drive to simply become more. I now know….

All I can say, today is “thank you mom, for teaching me that life is love and forever free”! I love you Mama Opal!!!!!