Disclaimer, this picture is just one that I liked and thought was cool, and not of my own Grandmother, Lucille.
For some reason, lately my granny Lucille (whom my sisters and cousins lovingly called Grandmother) has been on my mind quite a bit. So it is only right that I memorialize her via blog...
I know that everyone loves their grandma and thinks that she is the greatest - but I really, really loved my grandmother. And to those of you who haven't had the pleasure of meeting her, ya'll missed it - she was a firecracker. She was blunt and honest to a fault but you never doubted for a minute that she loved you and her occasional "constructive criticism" was only out of love. She helped raise my sisters and I taking us to Trinidad every year and dragging us all over the City. Our Friday afternoons together are some of my best memories - she would listen to whatever news I had and treat me like a little adult, while all the time having candy handy (to offset her terrible cooking I guess).
And her death 4 years ago in my freshman year is possibly the biggest loss I have endured in my life thus far. I didn't just loose a granny that November night back in 2004, I lost my second-mother, my best friend and my role model. She was and is my hero (next to mom dukes of course).
I could go on and on about how bomb she was - how she went back to college and got her degree in her 60s; how she was the most well traveled woman evar, globe trotting from here to China; how she would drag my sisters and I all over the city to the Bronx Zoo, Ellis Island, museums and free events of all sorts just to make sure our world was bigger than Bed-Stuy; and how she helped give me back my voice and beat stuttering by encouraging my love of music and singing. But that wouldn't even begin to fully do her justice, simply put she was the most gully person I've ever known and I miss her dearly every day.
I wish she was still here so that she could have read the thesis that was dedicated to her and watched me walk across that stage and get the degree she worked so hard to help me secure. I wish she was a phone call away so that whenever I get back from a trip we could chat about how no where even comes close to NYC. I wish she was here so that I could tell her about my new life as a teacher and have her tease me about my new professional role. But mostly I miss laying next to her on that big old bed, enjoying quite time as she calls me sugar dumpling. I would do anything if the good Lord were to allow me just few more minutes with her - we would meet in her kitchen and sit across from each other at the table over greasy Chinese from up the street and I would give her one last big hug and say, "See you later Grandmother, I love you. Thanks for helping to teach me how to be a woman."
I still say those things and many more to her, but only in my heart and mind. And while it hurts that she missing the realization of her dreams for me I know that God relays my messages for her.
Here's to you Grandmother and as is written on my dedication page of my senior thesis: "To the memory of my Grandmother, Lucille - I dedicate this thesis and my education to her."
