The Woman Who Made Me: A Memorial for My Mother, Five Years Later
- Eunice Curry
- Dec 4, 2025
- 3 min read
There are people who leave such an imprint on your life that even after they are gone, you can still feel them shaping you. My mother, Karen was—and continues to be—one of those people for me.
Five years have passed since her transition, and yet her fingerprints remain on my character, my courage, my achievements, and my capacity to rise. I carry her with me in ways I am only now fully able to articulate.
The Graduation Portrait That Became My Blueprint
One of the most powerful images of my mother is her graduation portrait. She looks poised, focused, and quietly determined—a young Black woman in her cap and gown, ready to step into her future.
I didn’t understand it then, but that same spark in her eyes is the spark I later followed:
Three degrees.
Years of building myself academically and professionally.
Eight years of entrepreneurship.
That drive didn’t come from nowhere—it came straight from her.
She used to tell me and my brother, “I got my diploma, now you need to get yours.”
She even hung hers right in the living room as a daily reminder.
Her graduation photo wasn’t just a moment in time—it was a map.
A reminder that discipline and ambition run in my blood.
A Life Defined by Faith, Service, and Reinvention
My mother was baptized at Church and spent part of her life singing on choirs—junior choir, a cappella choir at high school, and soloist roles. She carried music in her, both literally and spiritually.
She was also no stranger to reinvention:
She became a medical assistant and worked her way into office management.
She pivoted into tax preparation, working at H&R Block in the 80s.
She later became a tax examiner for the IRS.
And eventually, she launched her own private tax business—running it with the same boldness she brought into every room.
Watching her navigate different careers taught me that a woman can be many things, succeed many times, and start over without fear.
Bold. Warm. No-Nonsense. Unafraid.
My mother was the kind of woman who could welcome you in with open arms and, in the same breath, tell you exactly what you needed to hear—even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear.
She was:
Warm, but not naïve
Loving, but direct
Community-oriented, but fiercely assertive
The life of the party, but also the one who kept things in order
Her home was a refuge for many. We witnessed her take in so many people over the years. Her presence was grounding for most. Her honesty was unforgettable for everyone.
People admired her because she was real—a woman who lived on her own terms, with confidence that didn’t waver.
A Mother, A Leader, A Legacy
Beyond her work, she contributed deeply to her community. She volunteered, became a poll worker, and was elected a Committeeperson in the 30th Ward—serving faithfully until she retired. She made it her mission to connect families in the community with the resources they needed, even making sure they had turkeys and other essentials during the holidays.
She was a mother to Eunice and Jermaine, but also a mother figure to many who needed guidance, stability, or simply someone who would tell them the truth.
Her joy was vibrant. Her laugh was contagious. Her presence filled any space she entered.
And when I see photos of her across the decades—dressed elegantly, smiling widely, glowing even in her later years—I realize how deeply she lived her life. She was not a background character. She was the moment.
Five Years Without Her, But Never Without Her Influence
Grief changes shape over time, but love doesn’t.
Even now:
Her confidence lives in my voice.
Her drive lives in my accomplishments.
Her resilience lives in the way I push forward.
Her leadership lives in the way I serve others.
Her boldness lives in my boundaries and in my truth.
I honor her every time I trust myself.
I honor her every time I push through a challenge.
I honor her every time I show up for my clients, my family, or myself.
Because she showed up for all of us—again and again.
Her Legacy Continues
My mother, Karen, was a force:
faithful, brilliant, outspoken, compassionate, assertive, joyful, and unforgettable.
And though five years have passed since she took her rest, her legacy is still alive—woven into my work, my heart, my healing, and the woman I am continually becoming.
I am her daughter.
Her reflection.
Her continuation.
Forever loved. Forever missed. Forever honored.
March 9, 1952 — December 4, 2020
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