Ethel Lee Major, my  only mother, grandmother, great grandmother, sister, cousin, and friend to many will surely be missed by all.

Now keep in mind the first part of my mother’s story is told to me. Also keep in mind she was so much more than can be written in this obituary.  These tidbits, these writings are  only a glimpse into her existence  that attempts to pay  tribute to her 82 years of life.    

According to a reliable source Ethel Major was born in 1939, at 59 Pitt Street, in Charleston South Carolina to Shedrick Major and Lydia North. 

As the story is further told to me, my mother was raised on Edisto Island with the strong hand  of her grandmother Elizan Major. She was the sister of three siblings, a younger sister Patsy, an older brother Paul and a younger brother Shadrack and  first cousin  of too many to count. 

In Charleston South Carolina, Ethel, spent her childhood and young adult life.   She graduated from Burke High School and gave birth to her first child, her son, Luja Major. 

My story begins with Ethel Major when she migrated to New York City.  When I come to know my mother, the first memories, I have of her is that she worked.  She worked all the time.  Part time work at Addie Mae Collins Head Start, Part Time at the Elks Club on 126^th street between 5^th and Lenox Avenue where she was a coat check girl and Part Time, housekeeper, which is probably where I get my work ethics from.

In 1981 my mother graduated from Malcom King College with an Associate’s Degree and all those part time gigs turned into one Full Time Position as a Family Worker at Addie Mae Collins Head Start.  She loved her job, I knew this because ever morning, when she walked me to school, she would tell me, “Don’t do anything at school that will make them nuns call my job because I am not leaving my job” Unfortunately, sometimes she had to. 

My mother would spend over thirty years working at Addie Mae Collins, fostering relationships with coworkers and nurturing children.

Along with work, my mother  loved to travel, as a child we would travel at least twice a year besides going on that greyhound  bus for 100 hours to Charleston South Carolina.  The best trips for me were to  Canada and the best trips for her in later years was going to Atlantic City playing penny slot machines.

In 1990 I did not exist anymore, replaced by my own child Lexis,   her only granddaughter  who came into the  world.  In turn, I had to give up my seat next to her , by now  on Amtrak and not on Greyhound, to allow my daughter Lexis to take the yearly trips with my mother and have the  chance to make memories with my mother.  The very first trip that Lexis and my mother took  was to Disney World.  I did not know whether to be jealous because she never took me to Disney World or be upset because my daughter did not even cry when she left me and got on the bus with my mother for a memorable trip. 

During her lifetime she touched countless, she befriended lots, she lived, she laughed and talked shit anytime she felt like it.  My mother would say anything she wanted to say, take it, or leave it. 

Liam and Lucas her two great grandchildren almost replaced Lexis.  I so wish they too would have been able to take   those yearly trips, especially now that we could get on a plane.  We did all manage to do one trip as a family, a moment that we can hold on to. 

About 5 years ago my mother took ill and many things  began to stop, and during this last year everything stopped and suddenly there was, No more giving  us a safety pin to pin money to the inside of our pockets, No more Red Kool Aid, with boiled franks and a homemade cake with M&M Plain on it for somebodies at home birthday party.  No more $10 in a Christmas Card, No more Valentine’s Day candy with the 4 pieces of unknown flavors, no more trips together, no more laughs, no more memories.   And finally on December 4 there is Just NO MORE. 

My mother was preceded in death by her father, mother, two brothers and her son, but she leaves  this place to be mourned by me Sharon, her only daughter;  her grand daughter Lexis, two great grand children Liam and Lucas, my father, Mohammed Idris, her sister Pasty Ann North,  3 nieces, 2 nephews,  a boat load of cousins and  her friend Vera. 

The only thing my mother was not able to do was give up.  She fought to stay another day until the end.