By LaKeshia N. Myers

Message to readers: This article is a reprint of my editorial originally published in the Milwaukee Courier on May 11, 2024. I present it today, in honor of my mother, Girtha Myers, who passed away on January 3, 2026. She was the embodiment of grace and tenacity, and for me, she was perfection in human form. Rest in peace, Mama. I love you.

Dear Mama, As I approach my fortieth birthday, it occurred to me that quite a bit has transpired in the time we have known each other. While I often joke with you and dad that my arrival was, “the best thing that ever happened to you,” only lately have I considered that my birth propelled you both into a stratosphere of the unknown. In an instant, you transitioned from young people who lived footloose and fancy free and were transfixed into a new world with a new title, parents. Two people with whom new names were given, “Mama” and “Daddy.” You both have excelled at those roles, exceedingly and above what could ever be asked.

Only now that I am older do I fully appreciate the identity shift that was probably required of you when you became my mother. The weight of responsibility that was heaped upon you and the fear of the unknown. But as time went on, I’d like to think we learned to complement each other. You desired obedience and taught me to have respect for myself and others; to treat people as I would like to be treated; and that my name was one of the greatest assets I had in this life and to protect it at all costs.

I get my work ethic from you and daddy equally, but my ambitious nature is all you. My commitment to community and tendency to over-commit to too many organizations and projects is something I picked up from you along the way too. You always said, “If you want something done right, do it yourself”—I think I may have taken that one a little too far sometimes (smile). But you provided me the opportunity to thrive, experience the world, travel, question authority, have a voice, and love myself.

Like most parent/child relationships, ours has endured many seasons. As I approach forty, I am reminded of its significance in our faith. Forty represents transition, signifies new life, new growth, transformation, a change from one great task to another. As I watch you now, aging gracefully—with now more locks of grey, we have entered yet another period of transition, where sometimes I feel more like your parent than your daughter, and you behave like a rebellious teenager (go figure). I am thankful for the opportunities of laughter, solace, and discipline.

Thank you, for being my mother. Now that I am older, thank you for being my friend. You are a wonderful mother. You are the perfect mother for me. I love you. Love Always, LaKeshia