Marilyn was born on April 22nd, 1955, to William and Viola Jenkins in Sydenham Hospital. Marilyn graduated from Washington Irving high school Class of 1973. During that time, she had a son, Steven Michael Jenkins. After graduating high school, she started working various jobs before landing a permanent position with the City of New York as a Community Assistant.

In 1987, Marilyn met Sylvester Bryant in New York City. After marriage, Marilyn and Sylvester went on to have another child, Sylva James Bryant.

In 2010, Marilyn retired and spent most of her time with her best friend, who is like a sister, Rhea M. Daniel, traveling, doing home improvement tasks, shopping, and spending time with grand and great-grandchildren.

Marilyn Bryant, 67, of Harlem, New York, passed away on February 17th, 2023, at 9:08 pm from natural causes.

Marilyn was predeceased by her parents, William and Viola; her husband, Sylvester Bryant; her sister, Angenette Jenkins-Mitchell; and nephew, Malik Mitchell. Marilyn is survived by her sons, Steven Michael Jenkins and Sylva James Bryant; her three granddaughters, Janay Monique Jenkins, Kali-Sanai Bryant, and Amyra Bryant; her three great-grandchildren, Joshua Elijah Jackson, Josiah Isaiah Jenkins, and Ja'Niyah Armoni Hosch; her two sisters, Yvonne Brown-Henley and Stephanie L. Jenkins-Chapman; her nephew and niece, Stevenn Taurean Chapman Sr., and Tia Jhanay Henley; her grand-nephew and niece, Stevenn Taurean Chapman Jr. and Savionn Michelle Chapman; as well as her dear friend, Rhea M. Daniel; her goddaughter, Quanda Alisha Daniel; and a host of relatives and friends.

As a woman of faith, Marilyn wished to have a celebration of life promised to all by Christ. She would love to be remembered with fond memories, great strides, and beautiful stories that celebrated what was good and blessed in her life.

I leave you with this poem, "My Journey's Just Begun," by Ellen Brennan.

Don't think of me as gone away, my journey's just begun,

life holds so many facets, this earth is just but one,

just think of me as resting, from the sorrows and tears,

in a place of warmth and comfort, where there are no days and years,

think of how I must be wishing, that you could know today,

how nothing, but your sadness can really go away,

and think of me as living, in the hearts of those I touched,

but nothing loved is ever lost, and I know I was loved so much.

Steven M. Jenkins