WHEN MOMMA LEFT...

I remember the sunny day when momma, left, Jamaica. It was our first Taxi ride from the countryside of Portland, to the city of Kingston. The trees danced with the cool breeze on a sunny day. As we approached a strange home with a wrap-around veranda(porch) and a wide yard with children at play. Some were swinging on homemade swings of rope and wood, that hung from a sturdy limb way up in the tree.

I was quite shy. My mother instructed my brother Orien, and I to "go and make friends with those children, until I call you." As she went inside, my brother wasted very little time making friends. I just stayed to myself and observed.

Later she called us inside and told us "you must obey the rules of your father's home and do as you are told." Inside the home was warm and welcoming, with shiny wood floors. It was sparsely furnished. The atmosphere was fresh and light. When momma said goodbye, I must have been apprehensive, but knew I had to keep my feelings hidden, and accepted what was happening without comment. The witnesses to all this were friendly neighbors.

One neighbor named, Miss Betty, reiterated momma's sentiments, " don't give your big sister any trouble, she is like your mother, now. Do as she says."

I met my older siblings, Yvonne about 18yrs. old; Tony about 17 yrs. old and Stafford about 15 or 16 yrs. old. I have to guess, because I do not know their actual ages.

That was the last time I saw my mother, for the next eight years. Although we kept in touch through letters, over the years.