As a colon cancer survivor, I was really touched to hear an African American chap pour forth emotions over a late wife at the August Quarterly Celebration (Oldest African American Celebration in US History). He said she was diagnosed in March of colon cancer and she was dead in May of the same year.  His experience gave me a great deal to be thankful when I recall hearing my family doctor and oncologist say I am doing fine.

This grieving chap wanted me to hear a cd with his late wife’s last recording. I shared with him how to reach me. However, his cd was a reminder of a recording tape made by my own late mother guesstimated over 60+ years ago. Mother played piano at African American churches and for black choirs.

I need to get my mother’s tape translated into a modern format for her grand, great-grand, and great-great-grand children to hear.  Mama could have a church rocking with Gospel. However, she also played “Lift Every Voice and Sing” Negro National Anthem.

I guess this chap’s continued mourning of his late wife made me understand why I was procrastinating on getting my mother’s tape converted. This chap loved his late wife in her grave. I had seen that level of commitment to the love to a deceased spouse from senior citizen male friends with whom I use to chat.

I guess I am still haunted by my mother’s last words to me after she had fought a Herculean struggle with cancer for years. “It is time to die.” She was dead before I got home from the hospital. Her music may make me relive her horrific struggle with the Grim-reaper, but I owe it to her descendants to convert the tape to a modern format to allow them to hear Grandmother Sammye E. Miller.