We did it, Mom. We’ve published my poetry books! by Tracy Diane Miller

I lost my mom on May 10, 2005. But she kept her promise to me. I remember a conversation I had with her back in 1974. I was nine years old, my mom was fifty. Fifty seemed old. Anyway, she promised me that when she was no longer alive, she would find a way to visit me in my dreams whenever I needed her the most. For 11 years now, she has visited me. She comes to me as the optimistic champion I knew growing up not as the woman she was in her final hours when she looked at me with a blank expression because she had no idea who I was.

I listen to a recording of her voice everyday. Not that I could ever forget her voice. I just find it comforting to play the recording once when I get up and again before I fall asleep. That way, I’m beginning and ending my day on a happy note.

So as I reflect on the many poetry books that I have been fortunate to publish, I honor my mom. Without her, I could have fallen victim to the inner city dark abyss where I grew up and become a stereotype of failure and violence rather than pursued my creative dreams.

We did it Mom. We’ve published my poetry books!

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