With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I reflect on a woman that meant a great deal to me. A woman whose influence, strength, and love shaped the man I am and strive to be every day. In the quiet moments of reflection, I often think about what she would think of my life. I hope for those reading this and you find solace in the women that have left an indelible mark on your life. Find strength knowing that women are the reason each of us can draw breath and why we are the people we are today. These are my thoughts for a woman like no other.
Grandma, these are the thoughts that I wish I were able to share with you. I hope those that read these words are reminded of their loved ones and the finality of death. The finality of not being able to share hopes, dreams, and achievements. The finality of expectations. I write this hoping that you will find the courage to share intimate thoughts with those you love while you still have time.
She don’t want to pray, but I told her put her hands to it
I done came a long way from that tan Buick
Yeah, grandmother would be proud of me
Almost got the devil all the way the fuck out of me
- Game ft. J.Cole, JSMN, Pray
Dear Sarah,
It’s funny how the small things remind me of you. Though that is your name, we would never call you that it was always a sore spot when you were living. It was always Grandma. I was fortunate. Having three grandmothers was a blessing — three streams of prayer, three streams of knowledge, three streams of guidance. While I wish I had the forethought to better take in the wisdom you had to offer, I am glad at the time we spent together. I’ve been trying to write this letter for several years now, and each time I think I am ready, I pause. The deluge of emotions is overwhelming. Grandma, I miss your guidance and our conversations. In the quiet moments, I often think, what would you say to me while trying to make difficult decisions. I am reminded of you constantly; while you had passed when your great-granddaughters were born, I see them in you. The reflection of your hands holding and watching over them.
The passing years and holidays remind me of just how significant your role was. I miss those times. I think you would be hard-pressed to believe that it is rare that we all get together anymore. You were the reason frequently that brought us together. Now your children have spread out, and many are nearing the end of their lives, and I sometimes wonder, is this what you wanted for us.
I listen to the song, Pray often, and while you may not be approved of the content or message for me, it is what helped me come to terms with your passing. The understanding that you wanted each one of us to do and be our best in the face of adversity. It was similar to Maya Angelou in “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” when she so badly wanted to be a streetcar conductor, you always wanted us to persevere through adversity, and I hope I am living up to that. I want to give that to my girls. The passion you had for learning was a fire, a neverending commitment to being the best version of you possible. I know that is in part why I went to graduate school, why I continue to strive to improve myself.
What I’m saying is I took plenty of lessons from you. I understand why you tried your best to instill a love for education and a love of family. In time I hope to impart these values to my children, but I hope this letter finds you well and knows that I miss you and I love you.
Sincerely yours,
M.
