Bonita Brown, Contributor

Sylvia Morgan was the sixth of nine children; she grew up in Manchester in a little farming district called Rose Hill where everyone knew everyone.

It seems everyone in that district was related in some way. In those days, there wasn't much in terms of development or progress in the district, and I doubt that at present there is, except for a few more shops and bars, but there still is the little all-age school at the top of the road just on entering the district where Sylvia got her education as a child.

Sylvia was very beautiful. She was sexy, feisty and vivacious. She was also very chic and prim and would speak Standard English only; she referred to everything by its proper name; she didn't believe in giving unspecified names to things and to this day I cannot fathom why she only called me by my middle name - Joy.

Sylvia migrated to Kingston to eke out a better living for herself and her siblings; she was not satisfied with the edification and amenities of her small district and this reflected in her accomplishments. She was an ambitious and determined woman who sought to advance her status in life, and so when she went to live in Kingston she quickly got a job to work in a doctor's office as a receptionist, and promptly learned all she could on proper etiquette and social graces.

In a little while, Sylvia was able to send for her older sister and they both worked tirelessly so they could send for their other siblings one at a time, and she taught them everything that she knew. Sylvia was quite light of tongue too, but she would cuss you out in the most graceful manner. I would often hear her rebuke someone by telling them they were "crow bait", and it wasn't until I was grown that I fully understood what crow bait actually meant.

I was told that once, while she was arguing with a lady, she excused herself, went inside her house only to come back out with a dirty and worn-out mop that she leaned up outside her gate and told the lady, "Talk to that", then just as politely went back inside closing the door behind her. That was my mother.

After a while, my mother met the man she would marry and spend the rest of her life with - Herbert. Herbert was a Cuban 20 years her senior, and even though she tried to avoid him, he was determined to have her. He wooed her by singing outside her window until, fearing that he would disturb the neighbours, she would come outside to talk with him. Herbert would not take no for an answer and they were soon married.

She was spoiled terribly by Herbert. Whatever Sylvia wanted Sylvia got. Nothing was too good for her and she knew, so she would talk to herself of whatsoever she wanted and no sooner was her wish granted. Sylvia was kept lavishly, nevertheless, she was also very shrewd; she wanted to socialise with the upper echelon but realised that she had to have something to offer to entice them, and so she learned dressmaking and became a master at her craft. The upper crust sought her out, and she soon began to hobnob with the well-to-do in society. But this was not to last, for she was shortly diagnosed a schizophrenic and later with a debilitating disease.

My mother's schizophrenia would cause her to have conversations with unseen persons. Strangers looking on would find it peculiar and often thought she was mad or a bit eccentric. Her illness would sometimes cause her to think that someone was out to harm her and my father would often bear the brunt of these attacks, but he never mistreated her and was always there to hug and calm her whenever she became irate, but that, too, came to an end because my father became ill and died.

Sylvia was in denial about the death of her husband until the day of the funeral when she became so distraught that she threw herself on to the ground and cried. She grieved for months for her companion, but soon recovered. I remembered shortly after our father's death, my older brother brought his girlfriend to the home and had her sleep over. The following morning my mother gave her the third degree.

"Who are you?" my mother asked assertively.

"Gloria, ma'am", said the young woman, nervously.

"And who brought you into my house?"

"Granville, ma'am."

"Where do you live?"

"I live in Vineyard Town, ma'am."

Said my mother crossly, "And please don't ma'am me."

"Yes, ma'am", said Gloria out of respect and not knowing what else to say.

Sylvia questioned her further with Gloria ending all her answers with ma'am just the same. After a while, Sylvia just smiled and left her alone. I guess she just wanted to let Gloria know who was in charge.

My friends enjoyed hanging out with my mother; they considered her to be super cool. We would teach her the latest dance moves because she caught on so quickly. She would meddle in our love affairs and give us advice on safe sex, and my mother wasn't coy about expressing herself either.

I remember also another occasion when my brothers, their friends and I were watching television. It was about seven of us sitting around in the living room laughing, talking and watching a game of football. My mother passed by us in the living room to go over to the other side of the house.

Several minutes later, the bedroom door to the living room opened and my mother, stark naked, just strutted by in front of all of us to the bedroom on the other side. All she said was, "Oops!" as if she was taken aback that we were there, but her voice proved otherwise. She knew that she was gorgeous and she flaunted it effortlessly. We all stared at her in astonishment with our jaws almost touching the floor. I was more embarrassed than my brother's friends for they seemed to quickly compose themselves and went back to watching the game. Yes, that was Sylvia.

Sylvia didn't like being sick and in the latter stage of her illness, when she could no longer help herself, she would often say to me, "Joy, just leave me alone and let me die in peace." My soul would hurt dreadfully to see this proud and gracious woman in such a state of helplessness, but I knew that I had to be strong for my mother, and so I did all I could to aid her throughout her illness.

Sylvia was a noble wife, a generous sister, an adoring grandmother and best of all ... a fantastic mother. She is still often fondly remembered by those whose lives she touched and we will always forever be richer for having known her.