Dear Son,

Trigger Warning: Multiple raw scenes related to drug abuse, murder, and suicide. Strong language contained within.

The following is a recording from mother to son. It has been transcribed to maintain the original diction.

Back before I met Jesus and when ya daddy walked out, I told myself back then I ain’t need no goddamn man. Fuck 'em. We’d be alright. But we wasn’t. We sure wasn’t alright.

Them food stamps ain’t cover nothin’, and we was both hungry. And boy, you cried. Day and night, you cried. There was somethin’ wrong with you, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It seemed like you ain’t wanna be in this world. I couldn’t take it no more. It drove me crazy. I couldn’t never sleep. I couldn’t hear myself think. Everybody looked at me like I was a junkie because of them bags under my eyes. I couldn’t look for work to help us none. You ain’t let me.

You ain’t have milk 'cause I ain’t have enough food to make it. You was too small. That doctor almost had you took from me. She said you was almost malnourished. She thought I was a junkie too. I begged her. I told her I’d take care of you. She helped me get some formula, and you gained a little weight, but it was never enough. You wasn’t never satisfied. I felt guilty for bein’ a bad mother.

You got sick when you was three months old. You was a’coughin’ and a’sneezin’, and you cried even more. I don’t reckon me or you slept for about three days. We was both miserable. I was afraid to take you back to that doctor ‘cause I didn’t want them to take you from me. I thought about takin’ you to an adoption agency, but I was scared. I thought you might get put in foster care with some people just lookin’ for the government money. I was too afraid to go to the clinic. They was protesting over there, and I ain't wanna be judged.

When it got to the point where you was laying in that same diaper for two days, sick as a dog, I knew I had to do somethin’. So, when I hung you over that balcony, I didn’t feel all that bad. I was doing you a favor. I ain’t have any other choice. You was just gonna die or end up lost in the system and die anyways. I imagined you runnin’ around the complex passin’ all the junkies outside, playin’ with needles instead of toys. Maybe you’d pick up a cockroach and eat it when I wasn’t lookin’. That broke my heart. We couldn’t afford to move out the government projects. We was stuck there in our little hell.

I believe I had you by two fingers when I looked down. I thought about my mama. She told me one time that she almost had an abortion. In fact, she tried to do it, but somehow they messed it up. She ain’t want me neither. I wasn’t born into no luxurious life. Maybe that’s why I got pregnant at seventeen. Nobody told me better. Maybe it’s in our blood. Either way, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t raise you. You ain’t have no granddaddy to put you on his shoulder or grandmama to spoil you rotten. And I knew ya daddy wasn’t gonna’ come back. We was alone. It was all on me, and that weight was heavy.

I thought about jumping with ya. I was gonna die too. I remember that day. It was a’rainin. I imagined it was the tears of God a’cryin’ for us. My hands was shakin’ when I held you up. I almost did it. And then it was like God speaked to me. Don’t you do it, Sherice. That baby’s gonna be somebody one day. So I stepped off that ledge and took you back inside. I cried and cried. I couldn’t stop. You cried with me. I hit my knees right there. I told God if you was gonna be somebody then He’d just have to help me. I gave you to him right then and there like Abraham did Isaac.

And then we got our miracle. God sent his angels ‘cause about an hour later, I was still a’cryin’ when Kenny and Rhonda came knockin’. “We from Fairview Baptist,” they said. “They was goin’ all over the complex seein’ who needed help.” When they saw the shape we was in, they couldn’t help themselves. They got us food, clothes, medicine—everything we was needin’. You don’t remember that Section 8 housin’ ‘cause they got us out of there, them and Preacher Thomas, God bless ‘em.

I reckon I just wanted to confess my sins. I beg God every day to forgive me for that. I want you to forgive me too. I love you, son, and I’m sorry I ever tried to hurt you. This world is cold, and I guess was I takin’ the sufferin’ I’d been handed and was puttin’ it on you instead of on the shoulders of Jesus.

I want you to listen good now. You take care of that girl. Love like that only happens once in a blue moon. You’re blessed, and you better be grateful for it. God’s always had His eye on you. Don’t you ever take her for granite. You better not ever lay a hand on her. She loves you, and you better love her.

I’m proud of you. Who woulda thought that my baby woulda made a preacher? Don’t you marry the church; it ain’t your mistress. But you lead them like you was their father. You take ‘em to the Cross. You love ‘em.

We both know if won’t be long now. Tuck this tape away so you can remember. Listen to it when you feel down. I want you to remember that miracles do happen, and God is still alive and workin’ in this world. Remember that verse in the Bible: “The light shined in the darkness and the darkness couldn’t overcome it.” I want you to keep on shinin'. Be light. God saved you from me that day, and you became my light. You led me to Jesus, right then and there, when you was just a baby. I gave myself every excuse to toss you over the ledge, but God knew you was gonna do him proud. You was gonna save me and thousands more too. You have a gift, child. Don’t you waste it.

I love you, baby.

-Mama.