Obituary of Dr. Wayne V. Hudson

On February 5, 1952, I entered the world through the birth canal of Thelma Scott Hudson, and it was her and I. Three years later, along came my loving brother, Brad. The three of us shared love, life, and laughter together. Our mother was our all in all. Tragedy struck in October 1963. Mom was abruptly taken from us due to health complications. Life turned a dark corner for Brad and I. We were separated for most of our youth, seeing each other sporadically. Missing Mom and Brad left a hole in my heart. I set out on my search for significance. I encountered many challenges looking to fill a void only a mother can fill. One day I found what I thought was all I needed in Joanne Collins (deceased). I became a part of her family. Michael, Debbie (Deceased), and Mickey were now my extended siblings. Life seemed complete, but I still wasn’t fulfilled; I needed the blood connection that was with Brad. We were reunited, and I was elated. The hole in my heart for Mom would always haunt me. I never realized how much pain I was really in. Overcomer became my middle name, I had a lot to overcome, and I did. Educationally I attained the highest academic achievement, my Doctorate of Education. Spiritually, I became a Licensed Minister and an Ordained Pastor. Relationally, I fathered three wonderful children Wayne, Dewayne, and Alexis. In 2002 I was hit with yet another trauma when my son Dewayne was murdered. I may not have been the best dad to you all, but God knows how much I loved you. As my health began to decline, I realized I’ve had so many losses in life it was hard to really show those I loved how I felt. I am leaving some holes in some hearts also, and so I am leaving these words for you. I do and always did LOVE you. I leave behind my wife, (Maxi) my children, Wayne and Alexis; three grandchildren, Gregory Marcus Jackson, Ja’Daya Taylor, and Baleigh Alexis Jones; my brother, Brad (Melissa); my niece, nephews; a host of cousins and friends. And the moral of the story is: I lived my life the best I could, and if I could change some things, I would, so my advice is don’t leave this life with I woulda, coulda, shoulda. Do it now. Don’t cry for me; this is my going away party, so have some cake and move on. See you on the other side.