It's hard to believe that today would have only been your 69th birthday.  It's hard to believe that you are not here for me/us to wish you a very Happy Birthday.  It's hard to believe there will be no more movie dates on your birthday.  It's all so hard to grasp. It's hard to believe that you're not here to ask me to make your favorite dessert, banana pudding. Never thought there would not be more opportunities.  I remember last year, you told me that you found a restaurant in Atlanta that made banana pudding, but "it couldn't touch mine."  And, you even told the owner of the restaurant that it was good, but "couldn't touch your daughter, Nikki's."  You were pretty clear about your likes and dislikes.  Banana Pudding was one of those desserts that you would ask me to make for any and all occasions.  No matter the size of the dish, it was never large enough.  I'd put some aside for you for later even though you would eat pudding until your stomach hurt. On Thanksgiving, you would ask that I make two dishes, one for you only, and one for everyone else. Lol. It was serious for you, and everybody knew it.  This year, was very different without you. Though you weren't here to make your special request, I was thankful, and honored your spirit with a banana pudding. Never did I imagine, these past two years would be so life changing. I thought we had more time. More Thanksgivings, Christmas', birthdays... more puddings. There was more to see, to do, experience. It's hard to believe that you're not here to celebrate your day...to read your cards, open gifts, shoot pool, talk smack, take a walk, relax or enjoy your favorite dessert, BANANA PUDDING!  It's truly hard to believe. Love and miss you Mom. Xo

Not long after I got married, my mom would ask—"When are you going to give me a grandchild?”  Then she’d say, “Don’t get too old, now.”  Three years later, I became pregnant. My mom was so excited to be in the “I’m going to be a grandmother” club.  Her first-born was having a baby, and she was over the moon.  When I found out I was expecting, I was bursting to tell her and my grandmother. I wanted to surprise them both. My mom really loved surprises, and so do I.  It was such fun to witness because she would put on an act like she was hyperventilating and completely weakened from the surprise.  This time would be no different. The day after my sonogram, I went to see my mom who was visiting my grandmother to share the big news.  It was perfect, I could tell them both.

When I arrived, I handed my mom an envelope with the surprise ultrasound photo telling her that I received some mail for her at my house.  Needless to say, she bought the story.  She opened the mail, saw the image and started screaming, “Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God!”  My grandmother rushed into the kitchen from the other room to see what the commotion was all about, my mom yelled, “Nikki is having a BABY! “ Like a musical duo, they both began to shout, and before I knew it, we were all jumping up and down, hyperventilating and trying to keep the other from falling.  It was hysterical!!  My mom counted down the trimesters, months, days, and the hours.  The morning I went into labor, I called her to let her know we were headed to NYU Medical Center. She and my grandmother met us at the hospital.  Shortly after arriving at 7am, they joined us in the labor and delivery unit.  Along with the doctors, nurses and residents stood my mother, grandmother, mother-in-law, and of course, Jeff.  It was reminiscent of an initiation, the whole clan coached me physically, rubbing my legs and emotionally with words of encouragement through the birthing process until I became part of the “mommy and me” club.  It was definitely awkward, but the pain was so excruciating and surreal, it didn’t matter who bared witness to my private affairs.  Besides after 17 hours of waiting, there was absolutely no way my mom was going to miss out on being a part of this highly-anticipated occasion. At 11:58pm, I finally delivered to a very anxious fan club.  It was a celebratory moment.  The minute Edison was born, my mom began hyperventilating and shouting.  Her first, grandbaby had arrived.  That was fourteen years ago.

Tomorrow will be Edison’s first birthdate without the presence of “Umi.” Whether celebrating at his parties, a phone call serenading Steve Wonder’s birthday song, or sending one of her “Umi” cards, her aura was felt. She was huge on birthday cards, always arriving two or three days early and never missing a year.  Though her grandkids could never shake any money out, they looked forward to receiving an “Umi” card.  Eventually, they would just mutter, “We got an “Umi’ card!"  The cards were corny, but extremely special.  Forever a kind note, words of wisdom or a tutorial of sorts on the blank side.  Her gift was in the personal message rather than a material present.  She never missed a birthday, in fact, she would often call me to remind me it was my sister’s birthday.  I’d say, “I know mom, thanks for the reminder.”  We will miss those reminders, birthday wishes and her most heartfelt “Umi” birthday cards.  Your special messages will live on forever in our hearts.  
Xo, Nikki

It was early 90’s when my mom bought her White Jeep Wrangler.  The license plate read, “GOTADOIT”.  She loved that car to pieces (post her 1974 green Chevy Corvette, of course). It was a really cool car, especially for a “Mom”.  After years of making trips to Washington, DC visiting me at Howard University, running my sisters around to their activities, and later to New Jersey to see her grandkids, Edison and Ellis, that speedometer racked up hundreds of thousands of miles.  Eventually, the gauge displayed just zeros. 

My mom had that car at least 20 years, for sure.  That was not unusual for her, she kept cars until the wheels damn near fell off.  She did everything to avoid monthly car payments. She’d get regular maintenance at the dealer while still under warranty, then find a neighborhood mechanic or even a relative who knew a thing or two about fixing cars. If you were a man, she figured you had to know something about cars, at least more than she did. The first time, she met my then boyfriend, now husband Jeff, she asked him if he knew about cars.  Cleverly, he answered with a question, “what do you need?”  Not the first-impression you want someone your dating to have with your mom on their initial encounter.  Needless to say, I was highly embarrassed. But, she was determined to find someone, anyone to help her with whatever she needed for the everlasting white Jeep.  

By this time, it was probably year 16 and the Jeep had begun to lose its steam.  It was a small favor, but nevertheless a fixer upper task.  My mom gave Jeff a screwdriver to fix her license plate that had fallen off.  The temporary window placement no longer served its purpose. Jeff did as any determined man would, he took pride in being a “mechanic for the day, to win over the heart of his potentially future mother-in-law. He gladly used the tool to reinstall the plate. After that moment, he knew he would be in for a ride with my family, and with a small gesture had succeeded in winning over my mom.  Naturally, Jeff still reminds me of that story 19 years later!

XO, Nikki

You lived your life thinking that no one cared.
You thought you were all alone, your heart feeling tattered.
I am here to tell you that you were wrong
'Cause you see - Mom - to me you mattered.

I loved you when you were angry and mean.
I loved you when you were kind as could be.
I loved you not just because I had to.
I loved you because you mattered to me.

It hurts to know that now you're gone
And never will your face again I see.
I hurt not because I am supposed to;
I hurt because you mattered to me.

I have to live on each day without you.
It doesn't get easier as it is supposed to be.
I feel the loss of you to my very soul
Because you see - Mom - you mattered to me.

Your touch, your smile, your funny wit.
The times it was just you and me.
I will miss you, Mom, with all my heart
'Cause you still matter to me....

Written by Ruth Morris 

posted by Raeven Ricks

Mom, I look at you
and see a walking miracle.
Your unfailing love without limit,
your ability to soothe my every hurt,
the way you are on duty, unselfishly,
every hour, every day,
makes me so grateful
that I am yours, and you are mine.
With open arms and open heart,
with enduring patience and inner strength,
you gave so much for me,
sometimes at your expense.
You are my teacher,
my comforter, my encourager,
appreciating all, forgiving all.
Sometimes I took you for granted, Mom,
but I don’t now, and I never will again.
I know that everything I am today
relates to you and your loving care.
I gaze in wonder
as I watch you being you—
my miracle, my mother.

By Joanna Fuchs

posted by Raeven Ricks, youngest daughter 

The title of this book is so appropriate for my Mom as she was a “fearless” woman. Fearless by Max Lucado was the last book she was reading with her book club.

“I have felt cats rubbing their faces against mine and touching my cheek with claws carefully sheathed. These things, to me, are expressions of love.” – James Herriot

Evette adored cats. A self- proclaimed cat lover. My mother would often say she loved cats because they are- intelligent, independent, and, dignified animals like her. Whenever a cat was in need of a forever home, she was there. In the ’90s, my mother adopted two cute, cuddly kittens who were severely beaten. We named them Simba and Aaliyah. They became her companions. She nurtured, provided, and cared for them. They were always well-loved.

By Raeven Ricks, youngest daughter. 

If you see my mom in heaven,
She won't be hard to find.
She's God's masterpiece of 
Motherhood.
She's unique and one of a kind.

She'll be the one with the prettiest 
Smile.
Her angel wings she wears with pride,
And as she reaches out to greet you,
You'll see the twinkle in her eyes.

She'll be digging in God's flower beds,
Gathering flowers as she goes.
She'll pick a single flower bouquet:
The beauty of God's red rose.

She'll be playing with the smallest angels,
Singing joyful games upon her knee,
Or maybe writing words of wisdom,
Or reciting a poem or three.

She's with her mom and dad now,
Embracing them lovingly or
Visiting with her long-lost friends,
Chatting so happily.

She'll be God's strongest angel.
No more burdens will she bear.
She'll stroll about with strength and grace,
Kneeling with God in prayer.

So if you see my mom in heaven,
Will you take care of her for me?
Place a kiss upon her cheek,
And hug her just for me.

You see, she was my special mom,
The truest friend she was to me.
She taught me all about our God
And the love he had for me.

She's my royal queen of mothers.
She'll wear her very own crown.
She'll sit and share God's golden
Throne in God's beautiful 
Heavenly home.

Poet: Judy A. Campbell

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
"Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You'd walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me."

He whispered, "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
It was then that I carried you."