Inspired by “I Remember Mama” and the Life of Dororthy Earlene Reeves Ellis…

There are moments in life when a movie title alone can bring forth a flood of memories, a gentle rush of nostalgia, and an ache that carries both joy and sorrow. For me, “I Remember Mama” is one of those rare treasures. Every time I see it on my list on Prime Video or screened on television it summons a smile—soft and warm—as though sunlight itself has settled in my heart. Its simple phrase is a quiet invocation, inviting tears and a sweetness to move into my heart.

To remember Mama is to remember a person who shaped the rhythm of my life, the one whose belief in me, even on days when I could not hear it or see it for the noise and confusion of growing up, was there in the background. My mama, Dororthy Earlene Reeves Ellis, was an extraordinary woman, a true Southern Belle and a gentlewoman. It took years for me to fully understand the depth of her faith in me, to recognize the quiet struggles that she suffered with, and to appreciate the fierce love she carried in her heart for her family.

It has been fifteen years since she left this world, and still, she is constantly with me. Sometimes my mind and heart ache with an echo of longing, other times they are filled with gratitude and gentle remembrance. I miss our lunch dates, our talks, and the notes that she would send at times that were as simple as “I love you, take care of you”, and other times a update of what was going on in life. I have come to learn that grief changes its shape over time. In the beginning, it was raw, throbbing with every breath and every thought of her along with the new feeling of her absence. The pain was sharp, unpredictable, and overwhelming. But as the years slipped by, the pain softened. It did not disappear, and perhaps it never will, but it no longer threatens to consume me. Instead, it resonates deep in my soul, a quiet companion that reminds me of the depth of love I carry, and the wisdom that she left me with. Today, Mama would have been ninety-six years old. On this day, as I reflect on her life and legacy, I find myself wishing she were here, wishing for the chance to look into her eyes, to hold her hand, and to tell her once more how much she meant to me. There are so many things I wish I could say—so many questions I wish I could ask, so many stories I wish I could hear one more time. But above all, I wish she could see the person I have become, shaped by her wisdom, her laughter, her strength . I can hear her telling me, “You must write a book, you have a book inside of you, I know it.”  I never realized for so long the depth of her unwavering belief in me. Tonight, I will be watching the movie that makes me feel my Mama a bit closer and remembering her with love. I am working on the book Mama said I had inside, and this past year I was a co-author in two Anthologies. I  know she would be smiling and supporting me, it is her voice I hear in my mind when I struggle to believe I can, it is her telling me I have it in me, she knows….  On this day, her ninety-sixth birthday, I choose to celebrate her life. I honor her memory not with mourning, but with gratitude. I remember the lessons she taught me, the laughter we shared, and the love that remains. I wish she were here, but that is not the reality of the world, we live, we lose, we go on… Happy Heavenly Birthday Mama, I miss you still, thank you for the strength and wisdom you left me with.