About the Book
Joyce Bernice Deans is a story about the most important woman in my life that I never had the chance to know. My mother's Joyce Bernice Deans, the woman who brought me into the world. She passed away at the age of thirty-two leaving behind six young children. I am fifth of six siblings born from my mother. When my mother's passed away I was about 2-3 years of age, and my younger brother was just a baby. Since my mother's passed away when I was such a young child, I have absolutely no remembrance of her, no matter how hard I tried to visualize her face. As a child, I often question "God" why did he have to take my mother's away from us when we were young, leaving us alone in a world that was so new to us. I had so many questions for God, during my childhood years, especially why where we left motherless, and what contributed to our mother departing from this life at the age of thirty- two, leaving six young innocent children behind. I often wonder what really contributed to my mother dying. Was my mother seriously ill, or suffered from a serious disease that leads to her death? I often wonder what lifestyle did my mother live while she was alive, and who she was as a woman. Her career, hobbies, interests, her favorite type of music, her likes and dislikes. Her style in fashion, from the clothes she wore to shoes on her feets. Was she into diamonds and pearl and all different types of jewelry. These question and more find their way in my being time and time again, and of course, I will never know the answer to those questions, and more because my mother is gone, never to return again, which has certainly left me with such an emptiness that I will forever carry in my heart and soul that can never be filled, nor be replaced by another human being. That space in my heart will always be reserved for my mother's the woman who gave me life. As a child, I had a very hard time finding closer with anyone, although there were those who loved and care for me, that was not enough for me, I wanted my mother to hold and comfort me without ending without seizing. The mend the hurts and pains that I was carrying so heavily within my soul, that left me in such an unpleasant state of being, which brought me so much flowing of tears that I did not know who to cope or control the tearsThat space in my heart will always be reserved for my mother's the woman who gave me life. As a child, I had a very hard time finding closer with anyone, although there were those who loved and care for me, that was not enough for me, I wanted my mother to hold and comfort me without ending without seizing. The mend the hurts and pains that I was carrying so heavily within my soul, that left me in such an unpleasant state of being, which brought me so much flowing of tears that I did not know who to cope or control the tear from falling. All I could have done is find some corner to hide and weep for my mother until I found some form of relief within myself. I sat for long period of time with all different type of thoughts and feelings about my mother in my mind, trying so hard to hear her voice speaking to me when those moments arrived, yet I could not hear her voice. However, I felt her spirit close to me, which came with a fresh cool breeze sensation that usually took over my entire body, which gave me shivers and goosebumps as I sat there in the corner moaning and weeping to be wrap in my mother arms, to hear the sounds of her heartbeats next to mines. I would have trade anything in the world if I was allowed the chance in seeing my mother in the flesh, although I did not have much to offer in exchange to have my mother there with me.Definitely seeing my mother in the flesh is one of my greatest wishes from my childhood years to my adult life, having a least one second, a moment or a minute with my mother would offer me some form of relief than none at all. Yet if that wishes or dream came into reality, I really do not think that we would be able to be
About the Author: Joyce Bernice Deans a story third book that I am currently writing, hopefully, my book should be completed before the end of the year. I have written two books that were published within a four-month span this year, both my books are available on Amazon.com, paperback, and e-book versions. amazon.com/author/lorraineramsey. My first book The Amazing One" an autobiography/ memoir of a young African-American doctor who earned her doctorate to practice medicine at the age of 27, along with holding her masters in public health. The idea for writing and telling her story came to me one night as I laid to rest a vision came to mind, which lead my thoughts, to reflect back on my life when I was age 27. Where was I in my life as far as my career, goals, and objections? That night as I reflect back on my life at the age of 27, I was a young mother's raising two children, working a part-time. I had attended college and business when my daughter was born, yet I did not further my education goals of being a psychologist after my son was born. I gave up my dreams to raise my children with the love, care, and affection that I never receive as a child growing up since my mother died when I was so young. I made a promise in my childhood years that I would give my children what I did not receive when I was a child, to be held and comfort in my mother's arms. I always wanted to write a story about my mother's for a long time. My spirit and soul constantly reached out to me that I should share her story with the world. I started to write a story about my mother's many times, yet I never seem to bring the story to completion. Thoughts of writing her story have followed me since my childhood into my adult life. One of the main reasons why I started to write my mother's story so many times, and not able to continue or bring the story to completion, was the hurt and pain that I felt in my heart and soul each time I reflected on my mother's. The words were followed by the flowing of tears that were endless, which left me feeling lost within myself. I just could not bear the burden in my heart as think about writing about the woman who gave me life, that I never had the chance to know. For awhile I promise myself that I would not even attempt to write a story about my mother, knowing that I would feel some type of discomfort the moment I began to write her story, that worked for awhile until my spirit and soul spoke to me saying you have to continue to write your mother story.
