Queen Mother

My Mother was a sick person. It's true. She struggled with so many things. What they are doesn't really matter in this context. Suffice to say they were physical and mental. But never did she question who she was or what she felt her purpose was. My Mother was the color yellow. All things bright and beautiful. She struggled greatly. She conquered things most of us can never imagine, nor would we want to. She survived things that should have killed her, time and time again. Our family actually stopped counting the things she overcame, then survived. Over the span of more than 24+ years of her being ill, she showed us, her 7 children, many grandchildren and great grandchildren, loved ones, my Father, what strength is. She showed us how to not stay in the trenches. How to keep fighting. Never give up. She showed us how to be a light during the storm. She wasn't perfect. She knew it. The one thing she was is determined. None of us 7 kids wanted to learn what she had to teach us….what she insisted on teaching us. 5 girls, 2 boys, and we ALL learned how to cook, clean, basic sewing skills, ironing and physical grooming. As well as social skills needed in the world. All of it, with 7 kids. Now that we all have children, we can grasp what an enormous task that was. I have 1 kid and it seems impossible! She was absolutely determined to be happy despite pain most of us can't imagine. Determined to be joyful even when she was scared. Determined to teach her children everything they needed to know to be good humans. Determined to teach us how to live without her on this earth. For we all knew for so many years that her days were numbered. The gift was that we got so many more days than we imagined we would. In a turn of events we never could have predicted, her final battle came in the midst of Covid-19. With family spread out and quarantined, the first half of 2020 was mostly spent in a bubble with my Father, me, my teenage daughter and my sister in law so much of that time is a complete blur. Missing so much work, both from Covid and to be there to care for her. Missing so much money, lost from not working. At the time, I had no idea just how much work I missed. Funny thing is, I wouldn't change a thing. My siblings couldn't be there. We all knew it. It was torture for them. So I was there for all of them. Zooming even though she was in a coma, just so they could see her. Kissing her goodbye for my huge family...individually... singing, just being together in the only way we could. Watching her slowly fade. No funeral, no celebration of life. Somehow she was a light to the end. She is still a light. One that will never be extinguished. After her passing, it took a couple of weeks to be able to explain what I was feeling about not having her be with us anymore. I realized that the world was so silent now. She was such a presence, such a gift. If she was in the building, you knew it. When she left, the silence was so loud. So loud. It's been just over a year and it is still loud. Now our family tries our best to continue her legacy by teaching our children the way she taught us. We try and be a light, the way she was. When someone is that influential, the loss is great and the only thing you can do is do your very best to carry their legacy forward.

To Janie Queen, we love you. We miss you.

Dedicated to all those who loved and adored her.