It was Valentine’s Day in 1998 when we buried my beloved grandmother. Even though I could usually take or leave this Hallmark holiday, my grandmother’s passing ensured that V-day would always mean something else to me. To make matters worse, the funeral was nine days before my 30th birthday. Needless to say, February is a month of conflicting emotions for me.

Although she passed 12 years ago, I can still hear the clear sound of her laughter in my head. I also keep constant reminders of her around me. Such as one of her many handwritten letters that I keep on my vision board in front of the computer; the blanket she gave me when I was a young teenager that I still use on the coldest winter nights; the picture I keep on the shelf in the living room of the two of us when I was about four years old; and the bible she gave me when I was 12-years old that I still keep by my bed side. I even have a tattoo of the African adinkra symbol Odo Nyera Fie Kwan (“love does not get lost on its way home”) burned on my body in her honor.

All of these things make me smile and cry at the same time because I miss her so much. I am also saddened that I did not have enough conversations with her about her life as a woman, growing up in the south, and our family history. We had memorable conversations about many things but now that I’m older I realize how valuable some of those more in-depth conversations would’ve been. I find myself wanting to ask so many questions and I get teary-eyed now that I can’t ask them, especially knowing that she is the only one who can answer them.

I also can’t help but to think how knowing more about her life would have somehow helped me in my relationships as an adult as well as understanding more about our family. And because I never had a grandfather that I actually knew, it is especially bothersome that I didn’t have the mindset in my 20s to talk to her more about life than what she cooked that day.

Honestly, I never imagined a world without my grandmother until she actually died. But I am thankful that I had her for almost 30 years of my life. During one of the last conversations I had with her she was laughing hysterically at something my mom did. I’m not even sure what she found so funny but I couldn’t help but laugh with her because her laughter was so infectious and she was practically in tears from laughing so hard.

To all of you who still have grandparents, I urge you to speak with them about everything you can while you still can. I’m sure you will learn something of great value to you and your family as you live your lives. But not only that, you will get to know them so much better. I think we often look to our grandparents for funny family stories, recipes and things of that nature, but forget about the really important things that matter.

Despite my never really coming to terms with this great loss, it does bring me great joy when I think of the hand-written letters she always wrote to many family members. With the world of technology, this is something many of us no longer do. I am proud to say I have every letter she’s ever written to me.

I’ll never forget during the repass when a distant cousin who I really didn’t know well at all had the insight to recognize I was in love with my grandmother. My cousin summed it up like this: ‘That was your girl.’

Yeah, that was my girl who I lovingly called ‘mama.’ She will always be the love of my life.

#love #family #tragedy #loss