Monday – 25 September 2023
My mother, Gwendelyn Bell, left the stage for the final time last night (Sunday, 24 September 2023).

She passed barely 24 hours after I last saw her. I was fortunately able to go home and spend time with her last week. We often think of things in terms of “The first time I…” With this, a portion of my life shifted to “The last time I…”

  • …heard her voice.
  • …watched and heard her play the piano.
  • …got a hug from her.

Looking back, I am thankful for all of those moments.

Gwen Bell was many things to SO VERY MANY people: Sister. Cousin. Wife. Grandmother. Aunt. Friend. Teacher. Mentor. Inspiration. And, surprising no one: She excelled at all of them. Her presence commanded attention when she entered a room. The respect she held from those around her was well earned.

But, there was one role that only my sister, Kristen, and I were blessed and fortunate enough to have her fill: Mother. And, in this too, she excelled. She nurtured us, pushed us to be our best, and above all, she loved us unconditionally. This isn’t to say that we always agreed – far from it – but even in our worse differences of opinions, at no time did I ever question whether she loved me.

She was a talented pianist whose style was definitive and distinctive. She never bragged about her talent, choosing instead to let her ability speak for itself. I noticed that certain flourishes in her playing were reminiscent of those of Nina Simone, one of her favorite artists. I also relatively recently learned that she once performed for then-Vice President Lyndon Johnson.

She also set an exemplary standard of selflessness and compassion. She never wanted anyone to ever feel left out or not good enough. She gave of herself without a second thought. This was readily apparent in her work as a teacher. For over forty years, she did not just teach students; she brought them together as extended family. If they needed something, the time of day or day of the week didn’t matter. They were her kids. She was not going to let them go without. No matter where life took them, whenever former students were in town, they came to see and spend time with her. If she had a concert and put out a call for alumni, they were there. Every. Time.

To say that her passing has left a void in many lives is a gross understatement. But, I am sure that if you were to ask anyone with whom she came into contact if the sadness we feel now is worth the time we got to spend with her, the answer would be an unequivocal, resounding “Yes.”

I am proud that I could call her my mother.

I hope that I can live up to her example.

I will always love and miss her.