Mama, Don’t Stop the Music! – Pamela Edwards


“An incredible story and a must read.  Five stars.”
Ken Staten

“Full of life’s tragedies, joys and surprises.” – Pasha

Mama, Don’t Stop the Music! Is a contemporary fiction with light paranormal twists into the supernatural that takes you on an emotional roller coaster ride. It leaves you with an experience of joy, laughter, and pain as it tells the story of a mother and daughter’s journey—one through life, the other through death.

When thirty-three-year-old Nadine Allen comes face to face with her mother on her deathbed, she comes to terms with her own faults and guilt, essentially finding similarities between herself and the woman she had grown to despise. Seeing her mother battle with death, Nadine learns amazing strength and courage, while discovering a spiritual revelation within herself and a family secret that haunts her mother until the day she dies.

Desperately seeking connection, acknowledgement, and forgiveness, Nadine tells the story of her life for the past twenty-one years to her comatose mother who left her at the age of twelve. Faith leads Nadine to God, her mother, and an unbreakable bond to them both through music.

“A fresh look at life growing up and the love, pain and anger you can feel all your life.”
Shelby Meadows


About the Author

As early as the age of nine, Pamela Edwards knew her dream was to one day become an author.  Her dream was finally realised in her fifties, with the publication of her book, Mama, Don’t Stop the Music!   The story takes the reader on a journey where two worlds collide; the real and the spiritual realm, through life and death.

As well as stories, Pamela also enjoys writing poetry and has previously been awarded Merit of the Year by the National Honor of Poet Society, winning over 100,000 submissions.

Pamela has many more poetry collections and stories that she looks forward to sharing with the world.

Pamela lives in Atlanta, Georgia and, along with writing, also enjoys motorcycle riding and traveling.


I placed Mama’s hand into mine and squeezed it as if I was holding on to Mama for dear life.  I cried out in desperation, “Mama, can you hear your grandchildren crying for you, just as I am?!  Mana, they want to sit on the shore with you, so you can tell them the stories of your life, just as you’ve done for me.  When the music plays, you owe it to them to sing and to dance, just as you did for me.  The music was our bond, our connection.  I knew your every emotion and mood.  It was the music!  It taught me your love, laughter, and pains.  All I had to do was listen to its sound.  It’s the music I will cherish the most.”

Then I leaned close to Mama and whispered in her ear, “Mana, don’t stop the music.  Let it play one more time.”

Mellon lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.  Then he turned away from Mama and me.

I kissed Mama’s forehead.  It was now or never.  It was time to finally say those three words:  I love you.  I moved away from Mama’s bedside and stood at the foot of the bed.

Mellon, who was now at her bedside by himself, tried to create a different atmosphere when he jokingly said, “Alright, ol’ girl!  You need to get up out that bed, get to the bank, and get me my money like the other girls!  Just because you my Mama, don’t excuse you.”

I managed to chuckle and so did Mellon.  He reminded me of Richard Pryor.  He could say some of the craziest things but they were always said with love.

“Ol’ girl, I love you,” he said, turning serious.  He ran his finger down the side of her face.  Then he leaned over and kissed her forehead.  Again, he said, “I love you.”

After leaving Mama, Mellon and I stood in the corridor outside of the ICU. He took his thumb and dried my eye as tears poured down my face.

“You’re going to be alright, black gal?” he asked, using a nickname that had been given to me at birth.

“Yeah! I’m alright.”

“I’m leaving for a while. I need to take care of some business but I’ll be back before the ten o’clock visit,” Mellon said.

I nodded my head. Then I watched Mellon walk down the hallway and into the elevator.

Family and friends were awaiting Mellon and my return from the ICU to share information about Mama but when Mellon left, I found myself kneeling at the altar in the hospital’s chapel. I prayed for God’s forgiveness, for Mama, and for my family and myself. I prayed that we could all be given one more chance to undo the wrongs that had been done without interference, especially from the Lee family.

Mama had twenty-one years with those folks. Mr. Lee’s grandchildren had become our replacements. She had done things with them that she had never done with me, like shopping and supporting their schooling. I had even seen a picture where she attended the grandson’s wedding. She was standing right beside Mr. Lee, his granddaddy. She had turned down my invitation to my wedding, even after I had offered to fly her out to Waldorf, Maryland but Dad and Mellon came.

I hoped I wasn’t being selfish but God, I would’ve been lying if I said I didn’t resent the fact the Lee family showed their faces. So, I prayed. “Please! Keep them away, God! She has been there for them for twenty-one years! Can I have her on her dying bed? We need to mend my hurting, aching heart. We must undo what we have done. She and I need to find ways to take the anger and pain away. I can’t go another twenty-one years. Please allow me to find closure. Amen!”

“Phenomenal!  Well written and relatable for today’s family.” – Tracy Robertson