We take so much for granted. The matriarch, the bread winner, the person who made everything alright from gardening, medical and to church, that was my granny. She gave me my first haircut.
There was nothing special about this day, not any more than any other. We went outside to play, for me it was until my granny came home from work. I always stopped in my tracks and ran to meet her walking down the road and about half out of my breath, she would give me the biggest hug. Then, I would help her carry whatever bags the rest of the way home.
We didn’t have a car but her son, my only uncle did. I never understood how he had this beautiful, practically new car, but be so stingy about giving a ride to family members. I watched as my granny and her son go to blows over him refusing to give her a ride. Her point to him was you ride everybody else… and at four years old it made sense to me. This made my granny even more special to me.
And as I looked up I saw her coming. She had a box on her head and before I could take off running, I saw her stumble and trying to catch that box as she fell to the ground. I didn’t know but it felt like something serious was happening. Now, which direction do I run? I ran to my granny and as I got to her and was trying to figure out what to do, I saw neighbors and then other family members running towards us. It was taken out of my hands and I later learned my granny had a stroke. I don’t even remember going to her funeral. . I’m only learning now how traumatic this was to me and my family.
I've learned every family has a matriarch and without proper preparation, when that glue is gone, so is what you knew as family.
After her death, it wasn't long before reality set in and family members realized it never was going to be the same and we could not together live. There was no longer a family leader and free room and board wasn't a strong enough incentive to come back together.
With me, this was my first notion I had to do something to keep my family going.
(((your inner voice.com)))