St. Ann Street, New Orleans, La.

That picture of my mother is probably my favorite one of her. Do you know those placeholder photos that you find in brand new picture frames? That's what this picture was used for back in the day. She may have been 23 years old there.

Mom and I moved to St. Ann street in the 6th ward of New Orleans when I was 10 or 11 and stayed there until I graduated from high school and this is where I came of age. We lived on the other side of Armstrong Park in the shadows of the Iberville Housing Projects. There was a small Baptist church in the middle of the block and two pay-by-the-hour motels that sat on the corner of St. Ann and N. Prieur St. The cross of sin and salvation. This song, the ghost, represents my mother in those days on St. Ann street and the journey that we are on now. You see, my mother was diagnosed with dementia in 2016 and has rapidly declined. I don't know how to process it, and even as I write this, I feel as though the real darkness, the hard part is yet to come. In many ways, this record represents my return to New Orleans to be closer to her on this part of our journey.

The melody came to me early one Sunday morning as I was driving to my church gig. I recorded various drafts using the voice memo app, and I think that the entire song came to me in a day. I wanted it to feel like a dirt-floor Baptist church; like the kind of hymns, I heard my mother sing.

From the time my mother and father split, it was she and I against the world. She was never my "friend" although we were friendly we didn't have the "pal" relationship that is more common with parents and children these days. She was always my mom. I don't think that I'd have had it any other way.

I am cautious about writing about her as though she has passed on. She's still here with us but as anyone knows dementia robs a person of their essence. My mother loved to be active. She enjoyed going on cruises and line dancing. She loved being an active member of her church community and loved laughing. She had a great big laugh. I am confident that, aside from God, there is nothing or no one she loved more than her only son.

Regina, my mother, my Queen. I love you, ma.