That’s what friends are for?

My mother breathed her last breath of life last Friday at 10:30 p.m.
It was the start of the Memorial Day weekend when Vena W. Baker died at Mosholu Parkway Rehabilitation & Nursing Home in the Bronx, just blocks away from her home — across from Montefiore Hospital where she retired from in 1995.
It was the first day of DanceAfrica at BAM where last year together we enjoyed the salute to the continent; shopped at the bazaar and walked the pavement.
Vena stopped walking last December after attending a program of performances from the Alvin Ailey Dance Company at City Center, Caribbean holiday festivities from BRAATA singers in Brooklyn and Christmas dinner with my son.
As a matter of fact, the former registered nurse stopped eating during the season, dropped a whopping 15 pounds causing concern to much admonition.
Barely 5 feet and just over 100 pounds the petite immigrant was never a voracious eater.
But for whatever reason, citing a loss of appetite she rapidly diminished without tempering her often demanding calendar of activities.
Gradually, her mobility declined so much she maneuvered about holding onto structures with each step.
It was then I decided to take her to the emergency at MHMC.
She was admitted.
The holiday season was in full throttle yet friends and associates rallied in support of the ailing senior.
It was heartening to witness daily visitations to the elder.
Friends of hers and those of my association stopped into her room to cheer her recovery.
Many recalled how despite her age Vena had eluded the COVID-19 virus, the flu and other ailments in order to mail clippings of cultural interest from the post office.
She was rarely ill.
The sudden malady seemed mysterious.
Formerly well travelled, she had seen virtually every continent except Antarctica.
Her choice travel area preferenced Africa.
Annually traveling with Profs. Leonard Jeffries, Asa Hilliard, Dr. John Henrik Clarke, Prof. Ben Jochannon on lecture tours the region seemed to magnetize her interest in Egyptology, West African dynasties and South African cultures.
In addition to traveling she was a community activist — a staunch member of Jamaica’s People’s National Party, the Jamaica Progressive League, the Association for the Study of Classical African Civilizations (ASCAC), National Action Network, United African Movement, First World Alliance, and Vena Baker proudly displayed loyalty as a card-carrying member of New York State Nurses Association.

Dorette, Cassandra, Allman, Sadie Aarons-Campbell and longtime JPL member. Photo by Vinette K. Pryce

How she juggled cultural events was a testament Sister Carol acknowledged saying “she’s a real earth sample, a super hero, a world-class class citizen.”
“God bless her big-time…she’s a warrior.”
Singer Marcia Griffith often exalted the stamina she witnessed when they both attended the inauguration of the first Black president.
“Although it was freezing cold, she never flinched as we walked the streets of Washington D.C. to find a perfect spot to see Barack Obama.”
On her 93rd birthday anniversary friends gathered for a VIP celebration at Central Park Summerstage where her grandson Kahlil T. Goodwyn feted her during a VP Records showcase.
As the venue manager of the Rumsey Playfield venue, Goodwyn ably hosted festivities for his beloved grandmother.
Congresswoman Yvette Clarke sent a citation, Council member Charles Barron did too and Jamaica’s Minister of Culture Olivia Grange added her birthday sentiments.
The JPL presented proclamations, Rev. Al Sharpton dispatched a commendation letter and it seemed a barrage of acknowledgements from Jamaica and Ghana heralded the milestone achievement.
A similar outpour repeated last year’s anniversary. Therefore, when she suffered the medical setback, friends were puzzled by the serious demise.
It was heartening to witness an assembly of friends who regularly attended visitations to the hospital to ensure she was cared for.
Sonia Chin, Venus Green, Gebre Peddie made sure her hair was regularly braided; that she enjoyed the various porridges she relished as a youth in Jamaica and just to inform her of her influence on a grateful community.
In retrospect she arrived on the island of Jamaica at age three.
Born in Colon, Panama, both parents remained on the isthmus with hopes an aunt and other relatives would adopt parental duties.
They did.
In her early years, the only daughter of Irene Dean and Ernest Baker was ushered into Jones Town, a West Kingston hamlet some of her friends recently recalled “everybody knew everybody… We were a family of comrades.”
Raised in the urban Kingston 12 area Bob Marley immortalized a song he claimed he said he collected his mail at the post office, a young Vena inherited property when her guardians died. She transformed 21 Penn St. from a tenement yard to a dancehall which attracted the likes of Dicky’s Dynamic Sounds, Tom the Great Sebastian and launched the career of ‘toaster’ U-Roy.
I recall seeing the deejay in Los Angeles, California  years into his success when he addressed me as “the landlady’s daughter.”
The enterprising benefactor also began a purposeful nursing career on the island honing her skills at Belleview Hospital.
In 1962, Vena migrated to Harlem.
A friend who resided in the renowned town resided there. Saturday he identified himself as Billy saying he was calling from Portmore, Jamaica to offer condolences.
“The news mash me up bad when I heard Miss Vena gone.”
“I bawled,” he said.
Kingston residents Bridget and Franklyn Morant also  lamented the passing.
“I miss her already,” the grief-stricken Morant said.
“She could be my grandmother but when she landed here on vacations I was one of the first people she would call and we would go all over.”
Vena arrived in NYC to friends who had also migrated from Jones Town, they received her with welcoming arms to the Village Marcus Mosiah Garvey honed his reputable career.
Vena loved Harlem.
She took pride in knowing her path might have patterned those of the Pan-Africanist missionary.
Soon after arrival she furthered studies at Bronx Community College, Lehman College and Long Island University earning degrees at each institution.
Vena elevated her title from LPN to RN, titles used in the medical profession — practical to registered. It didn’t take long before Vena’s career path soared in the psychiatric department of Klau Pavilion at Montefiore Hospital.
She made many friends there.
While there she traveled to Bethlehem, Jerusalem and places she had learned from her Christian upbringing.

Former Jamaican Consul General Basil K Bryan with Vena W. Baker. Photo by Vinette K. Pryce

“Miss Baker was always traveling to faraway places,” a colleague recalled. “Whenever she had time off she would take off to various places throughout the world.”
Along the route to discovery she bonded with many like-minded friends.
Trinidad and Tobago native Hyacinth Miller became a devoted friend. Last Friday she was devastated by the transition.
She echoed nostalgic sentiments on the passing saying: “She was my sister, my friend.”
Together they had travelled to Egypt and Ghana and together they made a pact that if ever either met tragedy on the continent would request permission from the Ghanian government to be buried in the black star state.
In a letter Baker penned in 2004 — “I respectfully ask permission of the chiefdom and the government agency in the event of my demise to be interred in Ghana.
“If permission is granted it will satisfy my wish to be buried in the motherland —and will give my family both adopted and biological unnecessary hardship — Ashe.”
Baker died here in the USA after enduring a sudden and unexplainable malady.
She lived a full and fruitful life touching the hearts of many.

The late Vena W. Baker. Photo courtesy Vinette K. Pryce

As an only child, she parented yours truly, her only biological offspring and one grandson, Kahlil.
We have benefited by her trips to China, all over Europe and South America, cruises throughout the Caribbean, excursions within the African continent and learned about the meaning of friendships during her final journey.
Together, my son and I discovered documents she wrote in 2000 detailing funeral arrangements.
One stated: “if still domiciled in the USA” the independent and thorough requested specific arrangements including burial in particular raiments; a simple burial ceremony, and the address of a final resting place.
Apparently she paid in full for cemetery, crematory and conservancy in the Bronx.
She placed a certificate of ownership for cemetery/mausoleum property there.
She even penned her own obituary.
Her friends from the music industry, fraternal organizations and other affiliations will gather at Unity Funeral Chapel, which she requested as the Harlem farewell address of her final journey.
Imhotep Gary Byrd paid tribute to the departed last Sunday on his WBLS radio show.
He was somber and precise.
I grieve the departure of my mother this past Memorial Day weekend however, one lesson she taught me resonates with appreciation is that friendships are priceless.
I will forever be grateful to Vena W. Baker, she exampled loyalty and friendship.
The best friend who loved me most is gone.
Needless to say, she will remain memorable and indelible in my heart.
May she rest in eternal peace.

Catch You On The Inside!