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I will always love my mother
She is my favorite girl…
So the song goes but for me that was not always true or so it would seem for a long long time; but more on that later, now I will just introduce you to my mother and why I will always love her.
Named Zillah Lulleta (Taylor) Davis but called Curly, she was the only child from the marriage of Nemiah Taylor (we called him Daddy) and Amy Davis Taylor (everyone called her Aunt). She was born on January 31, 1927 in the village of Retirement in the town of Lucky Hill in the parish of St. Mary. She had a half sister and a half brother, children of Daddy before the marriage. Knowing Aunt, her early life would have been pretty tough, more so than I came to know it, because at that time there were a lot less people to share the work load. But while Aunt’s house in Lucky Hill might have been tough, for my mother it was her refuge, a place she came back to often, especially in troubled times. It was eventually her final resting place. She died there in 1979 after succumbing to the devastating disease of cancer. She was only 52. But her life was varied and a fulfilling one. I do not remember her expressing much regrets.
She knew my father from Lucky Hill, he was from the district of Endeavour and I think they went to the same school for a while but I do not think they interacted directly while at school but knew similar people for they were always saying to each other ‘Do you remember such and such….”. In any event they made the connection and got married, she at early at age 18 or 19 and he at the mature age of 26 or so; then they had me, she was only 19 years old then.
My mother was always a fun person; happy, outgoing and like to have a conversation (I got none of those genes). She lived the moment, not overly concerned about the future but is always optimistic. At the same time she was strict (I had many a beatings to prove that) and by no means a pushover (I was often embarrassed when she would take me Down Town to Hannah’s store on King Street to buy me clothes or shoes for school for she would argue down the poor clerk to make me want to hide and hope none of my friends showed up then). Today I see most of her personality in Bill and Sharon than in myself or Harry. They have fun, they are outgoing but don’t cross them.
Her other great quality was her ambition and I think all of us got a little bit of that. But that was also the quality that caused my father the greatest anxiety and was the cause of many family disruptions. My father was more old schooled, and expected her to be satisfied with staying home cleaning and cooking, etc. My mother on the other hand was way ahead of her time and wanted to do more. While I think she tried hard to do the stay home Mom stuff it was just not in her blood. From the days in Grove she would take off to go to Kingston to learn nursing (later on it was to work in Browns Emporium in Ocho Rios, and later still to work at Tower Isle hotels). These episodes did not sit well with my father but she was a strong willed, determined woman who wanted more out of life than just being a mother.
Growing up we were Jehovah’s Witnesses, both my mother and father grew up as Witnesses, but my father was much more fervent than she was. She was an active participant in the meetings and traveling to different towns to Witness and to conventions; however, I think she enjoyed the experience more for the opportunity to interact with others than from a religious commitment. What I remembered most from her being a Witness was not her religious commitment but her voice. She had a great voice. I can still hear it rising distinctly from the rest of the congregation, and how proud I felt then standing right next to her.
Going to conventions was real close times with my mother. My father was always away doing manly things and I was left in her charge mostly. Conventions were special for Jehovah’s Witnesses. It was where Witnesses from several district or regions or the whole island would meet for a three day convention of religious convocation and celebration. The meetings were long but the food was something to look forward to (you get a rare chance to sample food not normally available to a poor child growing up in Jamaica. Some of my favorites were doughnuts and American Red Delicious apples) and it was also an opportunity to spend time with old friends and families. This was true for the grown-ups too so it was really something to look forward to. And getting there was always interesting. Our basic transportation was Brother Earnest Douglas’s truck. He would put benches in the back and the whole congregation would pile in. There were no public rest rooms so for long trips we would stop for potty breaks. The women would go one side and the men the other. Still that was fun, it was quality time spent with my mother.
My first experience of school was not at Ocho Rios but in Kingston. She had gone there to study nursing in one of her several tries and I was put in a ‘school’. School was outside in a big yard somewhere off Slipe Pen Road. There were no desks and the benches were pieces of wood held up at the ends by large stones and for punishment you were held under a big stand pipe in the middle of the yard and let the water beat on you. You had a slate to write on and at that time the slates did not even have lines in them and if you broke it you were in real trouble. It was my introduction to schooling but it was also the beginning of the one constant that would exist between me and my mother; she was going to make sure that I get all the schooling that she did not get. It was as if she was on a mission to make sure I did not fall into the entrapments that she found herself. And so this motivation for always learning developed…
Thank You Maa!
She is my favorite girl…
So the song goes but for me that was not always true or so it would seem for a long long time; but more on that later, now I will just introduce you to my mother and why I will always love her.
Named Zillah Lulleta (Taylor) Davis but called Curly, she was the only child from the marriage of Nemiah Taylor (we called him Daddy) and Amy Davis Taylor (everyone called her Aunt). She was born on January 31, 1927 in the village of Retirement in the town of Lucky Hill in the parish of St. Mary. She had a half sister and a half brother, children of Daddy before the marriage. Knowing Aunt, her early life would have been pretty tough, more so than I came to know it, because at that time there were a lot less people to share the work load. But while Aunt’s house in Lucky Hill might have been tough, for my mother it was her refuge, a place she came back to often, especially in troubled times. It was eventually her final resting place. She died there in 1979 after succumbing to the devastating disease of cancer. She was only 52. But her life was varied and a fulfilling one. I do not remember her expressing much regrets.
She knew my father from Lucky Hill, he was from the district of Endeavour and I think they went to the same school for a while but I do not think they interacted directly while at school but knew similar people for they were always saying to each other ‘Do you remember such and such….”. In any event they made the connection and got married, she at early at age 18 or 19 and he at the mature age of 26 or so; then they had me, she was only 19 years old then.
My mother was always a fun person; happy, outgoing and like to have a conversation (I got none of those genes). She lived the moment, not overly concerned about the future but is always optimistic. At the same time she was strict (I had many a beatings to prove that) and by no means a pushover (I was often embarrassed when she would take me Down Town to Hannah’s store on King Street to buy me clothes or shoes for school for she would argue down the poor clerk to make me want to hide and hope none of my friends showed up then). Today I see most of her personality in Bill and Sharon than in myself or Harry. They have fun, they are outgoing but don’t cross them.
Her other great quality was her ambition and I think all of us got a little bit of that. But that was also the quality that caused my father the greatest anxiety and was the cause of many family disruptions. My father was more old schooled, and expected her to be satisfied with staying home cleaning and cooking, etc. My mother on the other hand was way ahead of her time and wanted to do more. While I think she tried hard to do the stay home Mom stuff it was just not in her blood. From the days in Grove she would take off to go to Kingston to learn nursing (later on it was to work in Browns Emporium in Ocho Rios, and later still to work at Tower Isle hotels). These episodes did not sit well with my father but she was a strong willed, determined woman who wanted more out of life than just being a mother.
Growing up we were Jehovah’s Witnesses, both my mother and father grew up as Witnesses, but my father was much more fervent than she was. She was an active participant in the meetings and traveling to different towns to Witness and to conventions; however, I think she enjoyed the experience more for the opportunity to interact with others than from a religious commitment. What I remembered most from her being a Witness was not her religious commitment but her voice. She had a great voice. I can still hear it rising distinctly from the rest of the congregation, and how proud I felt then standing right next to her.
Going to conventions was real close times with my mother. My father was always away doing manly things and I was left in her charge mostly. Conventions were special for Jehovah’s Witnesses. It was where Witnesses from several district or regions or the whole island would meet for a three day convention of religious convocation and celebration. The meetings were long but the food was something to look forward to (you get a rare chance to sample food not normally available to a poor child growing up in Jamaica. Some of my favorites were doughnuts and American Red Delicious apples) and it was also an opportunity to spend time with old friends and families. This was true for the grown-ups too so it was really something to look forward to. And getting there was always interesting. Our basic transportation was Brother Earnest Douglas’s truck. He would put benches in the back and the whole congregation would pile in. There were no public rest rooms so for long trips we would stop for potty breaks. The women would go one side and the men the other. Still that was fun, it was quality time spent with my mother.
My first experience of school was not at Ocho Rios but in Kingston. She had gone there to study nursing in one of her several tries and I was put in a ‘school’. School was outside in a big yard somewhere off Slipe Pen Road. There were no desks and the benches were pieces of wood held up at the ends by large stones and for punishment you were held under a big stand pipe in the middle of the yard and let the water beat on you. You had a slate to write on and at that time the slates did not even have lines in them and if you broke it you were in real trouble. It was my introduction to schooling but it was also the beginning of the one constant that would exist between me and my mother; she was going to make sure that I get all the schooling that she did not get. It was as if she was on a mission to make sure I did not fall into the entrapments that she found herself. And so this motivation for always learning developed…
Thank You Maa!
