My Mama, Earlene
My brother, Ricky… and Mama, Earlene




On the right side of the photo is my mother as a young woman… beautiful, vivacious.  She looked enough like Elizabeth Taylor… to be sisters.  My mother was as beautiful… with a fun personality.



Oh, as a little girl… I looked up to my beautiful mother.  When I first remembered her, she had long, curly hair.  She always dressed in dresses, skirts… she was the prettiest girl around.  I wanted to be like her, I wanted to grow up beautiful… like my mama.







My Mama, Earlene…and Grandma Alma…


Daisy Earlene… My Mama…


My Mama, Earlene…
My Mama, Earlene…



My Mama, Earlene… on left


My Mama, Earlene on left… Me, Gloria… on right




My Mama… on left
Mama… Earlene



Mama… Earlene, in front…


My Mama, Earlene… Camp Lejune, NC


Mama on right…


Mama… Earlene


My beautiful, vivacious mother, Earlene…

Tonight, I had my mother on my mind.  Can you see here, that there was once a young woman who had dreams, hopes for a good life?  She was real, had real feelings.  I knew her as ‘Mama’.


Can you understand when looking at these photos of the past… what I mean… when I say ‘everyone should have a book’… your mother, my mother … anyone who has been on this earth… who was so real… so… ‘the people we knew, loved’?


Don’t you think it sad… they aren’t remembered?  ‘They are gone, ashes to ashes… dust to dust.’  Of course, my Mama was cremated… her ashes haven’t been scattered.  They are in a beautiful chest… with painted roses on it.  The chest is in my happy … art room.  My little brother, Rick-Rick’s (Ricky) ashes are in a white chest, sitting side by side… by Mama.


I’m so fortunate to have any photos left of my mama… so many were burned, damaged in the house fire that destroyed all our belongings.  A lot of these photos have been trimmed, cut … because of water stains, etc.


That’s okay, I’m most thankful for them.  You know, when I look at these photos… some of them are like ‘yesterday.’  Isn’t it strange, because in a sense… they are ‘old photos’, literally.


There is a lot of pain in my heart when I look at my mother… I know, remember so much about her.  Her dreams didn’t come true, her life had a lot of unhappiness in it.  The end of her life wasn’t good… the end of her life … her last sounds…is recorded on a tiny cassette tape that I have put up… have ‘lost from myself’… as I can’t bear to listen to it.  I would get physically sick now… if I were to listen to it.  I feel a tightness in my chest… just thinking about it.


I can remember how always when I was a little girl, everyone constantly remarking on what a beautiful mother I had.  I knew that, as a little girl… why, I wanted to grow up to look like her.  They said she was the prettiest girl around…


My mother was one of the few women I ever saw… wear red lipstick, and was beautiful wearing it.  The red lipstick complimented her dark hair, skin.  I remember she loved to wear ‘black and white’ together in her skirts, blouses, dresses.  The colors became her… though, she could wear anything, look nice.  I never saw her wear anything that wasn’t pretty on her.


No one knew my mother had a little girl… I was sent to live with a father who didn’t want me… he had his second wife who had a little girl; then… they had a little girl.  There wasn’t room for a daughter who was from his prior marriage… I can understand now, being older.


Later… in time, I came to live with my mother… people found out my mama had a daughter… they would always say to her, ‘Ms Brown, you have a lovely daughter.’  We’d look at each other, and laugh.  There was a song out by that name.  I did become as pretty as my mother… we loved it.  We had fun… being pretty together… wearing the same clothes, she taught me about make-up, we laughed together.


I sit here looking at these photos closely… isn’t it sad to see such ‘life reflecting out from each photo’… and now… it’s gone?  Isn’t that very sad?  For instance, I look at the photo below… look at my mother’s smile, the smile of her cousin, Carol.


Look at how pretty they both were in their crisp, white blouses… black skirts…  look at how white, pretty their teeth are…. their dark hair.  See, how they smile for the camera?  So ‘alive’… so … ‘gone now’… but, so… alive in the photo.  They even look like… sisters.


Tonight, I share my thoughts with you… I’m thinking about my…. mama.  I’m thinking about how… I miss my… mama.



On Right… my Mother, Earlene
  • O Mama! (

8 thoughts on “MAMA…

    • :))) Len, I just read one of your recent posts that I didn’t see, where you asked for honest comments in replay… (your darkest writes)… I wrote honestly what I thought, felt as I read your words of pain…

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