Mom's are beautiful and the way they sacrifice is one of those attributes that contribute to thier beauty.  I remember when my brother and I were kids we loved animals and we would always bring animals home.  Mom on the hand was not as big of an animal lover as my brother and I.  She was never enthusiastic about having animals in the house but her sons?....Well, we would try to bring home just about everything.  I remeber having dogs, cats, turtles, salamanders, hamsters, guinea pigs etc. 

This week I thought about how my Mom's love for us motivated her to make sacrifices and allow us to keep some of these animals in the house even though it was not her thing.  Even when our pet turtle walked off the terrace of our 15th floor apartment she shared in our grief.  I am thankful everyday for my Mothers love and the examples she set. 

Mom you are forever missed, happy Mothers day! 

I have ‘something to say’ about ‘someone special’. You know certain people that you are extraordinary blessed to know. It is what they are which is what they do. It is as God took extra time to create them over us mere mortals. He blessed them with wisdom and knowledge and compassion. They are the ones when created, the heavenly host said more than “WOW” they “exploded with praises”. I must say that I have been blessed to know a few. This past week I was informed of the passing of Victoria Swilley.

My mother, Ma Charlene and Ma Victoria had a special bond that created a special bond between their three sons, me, Sampson, and Roger. It was as if the three wise women, guiding the three knuckle-heads. We had many moments of conversations, experiences, and growing together as six and as three.

Anyone that knew of Ma Victoria understands my words. Her wisdom was profound, her patience comforting, her beauty extra-ordinary and her presence a blessing… In the father’s creation of Ma Victoria He was well pleased. He set within her to heal the spirit of those that were hurting. Times in my life when I needed grace, understanding and correction because of my wrongdoing, I went to her. She didn’t fit any category, she fit every category. To say that she was ‘someone special’ wouldn’t fit; she was ‘everyone special’. Victoria Swilley the world is better because of you, however the world is emptier without you. –Enough Said.

My Sister Friend Victoria Swilley – a vibrant, intelligent, artistic woman – placed many discourses at my feet for some heated conversations. Like iron sharpening iron – the relationship was competitive but still loving in every way. We had strong opposite viewpoints, for instance about work – she hated working for corporate America and set out to do entrepreneurial art work – I worked and loved it in corporate America; about food - she was a veggie – I ate meat every chance I got;  about natural outdoors - she loved the natural outdoors, I’m definitely an in-door person; about our health – we had different opinions about what healthy foods to eat. It was our differences that brought us together and I believe our love for each other’s differences caused us to totally accept each other for who we are.  She helped me to see past the real into the imaginative especially with art.  She asked me once to describe a piece of art on her wall. I said it looked like a nice circular grayish metal piece of art with rustic hues of orange, blues and some red; I was at awe when Victoria told me it was a runned over garbage can top; and then that’s what it looked like – a flattened garbage can top. I laughed a little but went back to my former view of the garbage can top to appreciate it as an art piece.  Victoria and I - we helped each other to dig deeper about intellectual issues such as loving the self, how we can change the environment, racial issues and what our Black people are doing lately. She loved the movies, especially movies about specific noteworthy subject matters. I will miss our conversations and look forward to having them again.  All-n-all, she was a beautiful strong Black woman that I loved and will truly miss and will love again. RIP my friend (tears).

My mother was one of the coolest people I ever knew. She seldom dictated to me what I was supposed to do or should not do but always sought to expose me to examples of the shoulds and the should nots.   Some might say that she was different and somewhat eccentric at times. Indeed, I learned from her to appreciate the differences in people and to seek to know thyself.  But I really didn’t know what the latter part of this meant until I got older. Everyday, I am greatful for the wisdom that she inparted and that I can now appreciate

She would often say that she liked living alone yet she enjoyed the company of the people she was close to.  She was very strong willed and once she did her research and made a decision…it could be difficult to get her to change her mind. And, although she was a good listener, she was also not one to hold her tongue.  She was known for speaking her mind even if it sometimes came across a little harsh.  Although it took her a long time to open up to people, she was caring and compassionate to those she was close to. I remember her great ability to put herself in the shoes of those who were disadvantaged and understand their struggle. 

She was beautiful and kind. For several years Mom would brush her curly black hair back and wear it in a ponytail.  If someone were to ask me who my Mom looked like, I would say Sade, though my Mom what never agree.  Wherever my Mom chose to live, the place would always have a natural and calming aroma.  I think this was because of her holistic diet and her commitment to using non – chemical products like incense, herbs, potpourri, and oils. 

She loved a great movie and most of the time, it had to have substance and spark deep thought. She could never sit through a full episode of “Housewives” or any modern day reality show for that matter.  She had a low tolerance for that type of entertainment. Now music….she loved music.  Her favorite types of music were jazz, classical and some old school rhythm & blues.  It was from my mom that I learned about such jazz greats as Al Jarreau, Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock and Keith Jarred. I remember when I was a child, she would sit in front of the record player and sing along with Phoebe Snow and Roberta Flack. Her favorite Phoebe Snow song was ”Poetry Man” and her favorite Roberta Flack song was ”The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”  Sometime when I am alone and the world around me is quiet, I can hear her singing….

Yesterday I heard a song from an eighties rock group,  that I know you too will recall.Its lyrics were adapted from the bible book, Ecclesiastes and reads:


To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to build up,a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late.

As I listened to these lyrics my heart soared,. It served as a perfect analogy of the thirty five year friendship that Victoria and I shared, and gave words to this most recent season that we have now entered.

From the beginning our friendship was destined.. There were no motives or fanfare or agreement in our meeting,, just the quiet, unspoken wish for two kindred spirits to once again unite..

This unspoken ‘purpose” of our friendship, which many times surpassed even our understanding, withstood many “seasons” in our lives. Seasons in which we both served as daughters, sisters, wives, mothers partners, only to renew and revive itself to provide the assurance that the universe makes no mistakes.

This most recent season, however, was the most precious of them all. It was a season which all the other seasons had been preparing us for. A time which demanded a vow of complete assurance.

Grounded in a foundation of honesty and trust tested over a lifetime of seasons we were able navigated the physical, mental and spiritual landmines we encountered during Victoria’s illness realizing that it wasn’t so much the “things”, as much as our realization that four shoulders are definitely stronger than two.

In closing, they say there are defining points in your life, marriage, the birth of a child, a sixth birthday, which give it depth and meaning.  I can only wish for you all the indescribable feeling of completion and fulfillment that having  a true friend offers.

With love and gratitude,

Tina-Tina

I am the eldest of the Simms girls. But for most of my life, I had two big sisters. One was Debra Brown: the cousin who helped me negotiate high school,  taught me the ropes of being a little girl in Detroit, and helped reinforce my love for reading. 

I have many memories of my time with Debra. But it was my cousin, Victoria, who provided me with the model for how to be a black woman artist. Victoria let me know that it was alright to be unconventional, if being unconventional was really being me. Through Victoria I learned to carve out an emotional and intellectual oasis in a concrete jungle, and in teaching me this, she taught me how to create a vision of where I was in space and time regardless of the external reality besetting me.

Yet, it was the external reality that she cautioned me to always hold accountable, take to task, never accept less from, and to flip it inside out and upside down until I got what I wanted. My cousin, Victoria, my big sister, taught me how to survive.

One time when she and I were talking during the last year before her passing, I was trying to get her to remember all the things that she had done for me: knitted my graduation dress for the sixth grade and mailed it to me in time for me to strut across the stage in it; corn-rolled my hair and instilled in me how beautiful my natural hair was; and, she took me to see Ntozake Shange's "For Colored Girls," and warned me that mature women don't eat burgers before the theater. She did not recall any of these events. That was okay with me that she did not remember events that were so indelibly marked in my memories as sacred because I was instantly reminded that Victoria did those things for me from her heart, and when your actions emanate from your heart, they can easily be forgotten.

Our last times together were quiet. We would sit and talk, drink tea, and examine the world. We would promise to keep up the good fight. I would visit her after teaching all day at Howard University and Prince George's Community College. Retreating to her space to sit and stare out the large window in her living room provided me with a sense of comfort and space that I always got when she and I shared those quiet moments together.

I will miss my cousin, my big sister, my confidante. When you turn to look at the pink sky, or the crimson ocean, or the ocher dirt, trust that my cousin Victoria is in heaven  with her paint brush, coloring everything on Earth for our pleasure.