Remembering My Grandmother

My grandmother was an incredible woman, a pillar of strength and resilience. She fought cancer with all her might for two whole years, and that's something I'll always admire her for. Even though I had the chance to visit her on her last day and chose not to, I don't harbor any regret or bitterness about it. I made that choice because I knew seeing her like that would replay in my mind. Besides, I'm confident she would have assured me that she's proud of the person I've become. I can almost hear her light-hearted laugh and feel her warm, comforting hugs. One of the things I'll miss the most is walking into her house and hearing her call out, "Hey Mil!"

But there are things I won't miss—like the times she was so fatigued she wanted to be left alone, or when her medication made her feel odd. These are not the memories that define her in my heart. My grandmother was a source of boundless love and laughter. She knew how to make people happy; she would even go as far as wearing flamboyant, paint-splattered clogs just to make me laugh. She wasn't making fun of herself; she just wanted to bring joy into the lives of the people around her.

My grandmother imparted many invaluable life lessons to me. The first and foremost was the importance of family. She had a saying, "Family First," emphasizing how we must all look out for each other. Family ties are sacred, and in our family, we've endured a great deal to get where we are today. She was a living testament to overcoming adversity; she grew up during the era of segregation. She knew what it was like to drink from a separate water fountain or to enter a restaurant from a different doorway just because of skin color.

Despite facing challenges that are difficult for me to fathom, she never belittled my problems. If I came over stressed about a minor issue at work, she'd listen attentively. She was the epitome of empathy, always wishing she could bear some of my burdens to make my life easier. "If only I could take some of the weight off your shoulders so you could smile a bit more," she'd often say. I think of this often when I’m not having a good day and it usually results in a smile.

My grandmother was more than just a family member; she was a beacon of love, resilience, and wisdom. Her home was a sanctuary where you could just be yourself, lying on the couch and talking about everything and nothing for hours on end. She had a unique way of making each moment special while having a sense of playfulness in every conversation. Her legacy will forever be etched in my heart, reminding me to prioritize family, embrace resilience, and above all, to be myself.

I'll forever miss you.