real talk: grandma's homegoing
I’ve seen other people write posts like this but never have I written one like this before. In many ways it feels surreal to even be writing this, but I think it’s important because—
I want to be open and honest with you and share both the highs and the lows
I know there are other people out there dealing with the same thoughts and feelings, and if this can help, even in just the slightest way, then my job here is done
I have been quiet here because I needed some time to gather my thoughts before I wrote this post. I couldn’t just continue with the scheduled programming. Because I’m different. As some of you know my grandma had been sick for about 6 months, and I’m writing to share that she recently passed away.
Even though it’s been a few weeks, it still makes me sad to write [and I presume will continue to make me sad for some time]. It makes me sad that I can’t call her on the phone to just say hi and chat about our days. [She’d always warn me to be careful. Even if I was doing something mundane like getting on the subway or walking home from work; she’d tell me to be careful].
This is likely my Caribbean roots showing up but growing up I never had a babysitter or nanny. My mother is one of five, so my brother and I would often stay with our aunts and uncles, and most often we’d stay with our grandparents. Grandma’s house was a 5 minute walk from my childhood apartment in Brooklyn, so going between there and home was basically second nature. Many times after school, I would go there first, do homework and eat dinner with Grandma and Grandpa, before heading home with my parents for bedtime. On Friday’s or Saturday’s, my mom or dad would come to take me home, and I’d cry and scream to stay the weekend at Grandma’s [and I often got my way]. On Sunday’s, I’d attend Sunday service with Grandma. While I remember as a kid not fully understanding the pastor’s sermons, I loved singing the hymns, picking out my church dress [with matching socks and shoes, of course], and spending even more time with Grandma. [Church was often an excuse to sleepover Saturday night too ;]
While I’d say I’m more spiritual than religious now, I do believe Grandma is at rest because she is no longer in pain. So while yes it was very hard to attend a funeral service [and sing some of the very same hymns I haven’t sang since back in Sunday service with her] and a burial service for the first time, and maybe even harder to see my closest family members hurting so deeply, I don’t feel like I’ve lost touch with Grandma. She’s still here with me in my memories and, most recently, in my dreams.
Something about the passing of Grandma followed almost immediately by the tragic death of Kobe Bryant, his daughter, and the 7 other passengers aboard that helicopter has put so many things into perspective. Probably most of all: time is oh so precious. That thing that you’ve been wanting to say, try, do, not do- do it. [More on this later.]
For now, I just wanted to say--
I’ll love you always, Grandma.
Rest in peace.
See you in my dreams.
