My mama was obsessed with the Jackson 5 when she had all of us. She named us Jenny, James, Johnathan (me), Justin, and Jane, J5, she would call us. Let's go, J5. Goodnight, J5. My mama made cookies when she was lost in emotion. You could always tell which one if you took a bite 'outta one. They were sweet and gooey when all five of us brought home A's and B's on our report cards. They were burnt and crumbly when our Aunt Charlotte died. My mama danced along to records when she was vacuuming and watched the robins fly around while we were at school. My mama handed out love like no one's business, along with other things like compassion and empathy. My mama slapped Jenny's boyfriend after she came home cryin' because him. My mama didn't blink twice when I came home with a boyfriend of my own, only smiled and welcomed him home. She called us all 'round the dining room table to announce that she found her first gray hair. We were all surprised- Mama gets gray hairs? But my mama grinned at her newest milestone marker. My mama didn't click her tounge when any of is started dressin' funny, or smokin', or staying out all night, or skippin' school. My mama lived and let lived, mama took things as they were.

When our mama died, that's what she did. My mama took it as it was, with a frail smile to the J5.