Naa's mother, honoring her

Naomi Korkoi Adom, 1951-2024

to lose a parent

makes you lose all surety

of where you are,

of who you are,

of how the world makes sense,

even more so when daughter and mother

are two halves of the same coin:

intense, forthright, 

passionately honest and themselves,

gifted with the double-edged sword

of seeing and judging how well what is

shapes up against what should be,

the daughter takes a risk,

spends a lot of money 

on presenting her hair well for a wedding,

she risks asking her mother for her take on the new hair do,

and her mother finds it wrong,

not true to what her daughter 

needs to look her best,

so they work together and restore the hair

to what both agree is the best presentation,

the Ghanaian in the mother is exact in her rules,

in her understanding of who is "alpha,"

and only accepting equality when the daughter is 17, 18,

and finally mature enough to have a seat at the table,

Naomi grew up steeped in her culture,

her father a postal worker, 

her mother made the home,

and ran a small store of treats in the front yard,

she stressed being very academic

and firmly believed in doing one's best,

was that strictness too harsh?

her daughter doesn't think so

and feels her mother's high standards

gave impetus and direction to reaching for one's best,

what a will she had:

imaginer being a midwife in Ghana

and following a call to Scotland to ply your trade,

the health of baby and mother important enough

to allow her to work there, and thrive,

midwife a step toward her career and calling as a nurse,

going back to college for her B.A. as an R.N.,

then on to get her Masters,

centering on the Bronx medical center,

a hospital where she worked her whole career:

an emergency room nurse, a vascular nurse,

a nurse for all categories,

finally a case manager at the end of her career,

how can one measure the effect of her being there for patients?

imagine how many she helped,

how many lives were bettered,

how many lives were saved,

somehow her future husband followed her to Scotland,

and they found each other,

completed each other,

became each other,

her grandchild, Ayite, is born,

with enough drama to worry this expert on childbirth,

with enough beauty of soul to center

the loving mother and devoted grandmother,

community vital to Naomi,

often she was the last person to leave an event,

for a lot needed to happen,

and somebody needed to do it,

countless connections with others,

after her death, person after person

were moved to share how Naomi was there for them,

two years ago ovarian cancer came to the fore,

she knew what was coming,

and resolutely dealt with it all with grace,

finally she decided to commit to Hospice:

"It's what I've decided to do,"

she didn't want her family to be sad,

despite how much each felt anticipatory grief so strongly,

despite the powerless feeling of no sureness 

as to choices, as to feelings, 

Naomi's end was as right and whole

as could be managed:

all her family there,

particularly her beloved Ayite,

Naomi felt the love, they did, too,

Naomi took her last breath, and left us,

I still see her in the life and tears

of the daughter who misses her so, so much.

by Henry H. Walker

August  13, ‘24