Cecelia Roberson

Cecelia Roberson, age 62, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, passed away peacefully on May 23, 2025. Born on April 21, 1963, in Chicago, Illinois, Cecelia brought warmth, creativity, and strength to everyone she touched throughout her life.
She was a loving mother to many: Kirdrell Wright, Annie Austin, Renee Austin, David Roberson, Mark Smith, Denzel Baker, John Lee Baker, Rayman Baker, and her forever baby boy, Blake Baker. She also held close in her heart a daughter lost to adoption, a bond never broken by time or circumstance. Her love for all her children was deep, enduring, and unconditional. She leaves to cherish her loving memory her siblings; Valerie Tanksley, Roxy Austin, Salina Austin, Julia Roberson, Renee Austin, Robbie Austin, Richard Austin, Joseph Roberson and Deidra Austin.

Words from her youngest son, Blake:

Today, we gather with heavy hearts to honor and remember someone who was so much more than a mother, She was a force of nature. My mom was love in its rawest and realest form. She didn’t sugarcoat nothing not even the truth, and she never held back her passion — whether she was defending her family, sharing her poetry, or talking about the latest ancient theory of the world that had captured her imagination.

She was known for her tough love — the kind that didn’t always come with soft words, but always came with deep care. You never had to wonder where you stood with her. And if you were lucky enough to be loved by her, you knew it — fully, fiercely, and forever.

Mom had a quiet creativity that left a mark. She made beautiful dream catchers by hand and found joy in the details of life that others might overlook. She had a gift for seeing beauty in the unusual and meaning in the mysterious. She passed that spirit on to her grandchildren, helping to raise them with that same sense of curiosity, love, and resilience.

One of my favorite memories is something simple — yet unforgettable. She used to buy blank masks for herself and all the kids, and we’d sit down together and paint them. No matter how hard we tried, her masks — or John’s — always ended up looking the best. She just had that touch — that quiet magic in her hands. And then there were her poems. I loved when she would read them to me. Her words weren’t just amazing and thought-provoking — they were filled with soul, truth, and sometimes, just the right amount of painful truth.

She lived her life boldly, loved deeply, and spoke her mind with fire and grace. She may not have fit into every box the world tried to offer, but that’s exactly what made her unforgettable.

Mom — thank you for your strength, your love, your passion, and your honesty. Thank you for raising us with open hearts and open eyes. We miss you more than words can say, but we carry you with us, in every story we tell, in every dream we chase, and in every bit of art and Knowledge we pass on.