My Grandmother: A True Blessing.

MY GRANDMOTHER: The Greatest Love of My Life

I turned onto the small dirt road that led to my home, tears burning the back of my eyes, my throat clogged with unshed emotions. I wrapped my right hand around my midsection, trying to protect myself from the onslaught of pain I was feeling, my left hand a fist in front of my mouth, struggling to contain the wail that threatened to pour out of my mouth.

I quickened my steps, taking the next corner and saw her… seated in her usual spot on our small veranda, in a plastic blue chair, her small battery operated radio at her feet. I felt the moment her gaze left whatever had held it captive and turned to rest on me. Then the tears poured.

That’s how it had always been.
To them, I was a strong, brave, courageous young woman.
To her, I was the little girl perched on her left arm, needing to be sheltered.

Stepping into her presence felt safe; with one glance she could communicate so much, and with that one glance, she immediately knew what I needed.

I tried to move as quickly as I could, rushing to her side, dropping down to my knees and greeting her, asking how her day was, all the while trying but failing to stop the tears from falling.

She held my hand in hers, searched my face,
“ What happened? What is wrong? Why are you crying? “
I sniffed, wiping the snot from my nose with the back of my hand.
I could feel a shaky grin spread across my face.
“Nothing ” I replied, enveloping both her hands in both of mine,
“Something small… I’ll be fine in no minute.”
I didn’t give her time to respond, rushing to my feet and into the house as quickly as I could.

I could feel my teeth bite into my lower lip, a well of tears flowing from my eyes.
I rushed to open my bedroom window and get some air into the room as the mixture of frustration, fear and disappointment clogged up my airways.

Then her hands were around me, wrapped around my middle, her forehead resting along my spinal cord.
“Mmhh mmhh… mmhh mmhh… it’s okay.
Rest on me…”
She whispered behind my back.

I looked down at her frail hands, the skin pouring down from her elbows. I knew how difficult it was for her to stand up on her two feet for longer than a few minutes, but she held me, softly uttering words of comfort for minutes until her feet were numb.

I finally turned around, held her hands and directed her towards the edge of the bed so she could take a seat.
I looked at her, memorizing the lines etched across her face. I looked at her…
This woman who had raised me since birth.
This woman who had cuddled me in her hands, wrapped me up in her old gomesi and sheltered me from the cold. This woman who had carried me on her back and waited anxiously in countless hospital rooms. This woman, who taught me about God and from whom I learned to pray by listening to her pray every morning and evening.
This woman; my best friend, my spiritual guide, my prayer warrior, my sounding board. The wisest woman I knew, the one who made me feel seen and heard and deeply loved. My sense of calm in a chaotic world. My strong foundation. The guiding voice in my ear. Constantly reminding me of the good in this world, constantly reminding me of the good in me.

I looked at her, memorizing the lines etched across her face. I looked at her wondering…
‘What would I ever do in this life without this woman?’
A few weeks later, I would find out.
.
A month ago, I was forced to say goodbye to you.
So quick. So sudden.
I’ve learned that hearts can break and never unbreak.
My life has been altered forever.
.
I’m always telling people to hang onto hope. But it’s been so very hard. I’m hanging onto the last words you said to me,
”Nakalanda, Nweza Yesu… ”
Nakalanda, Hold onto Jesus Christ. Lean on him.
.
Thank you for gently and patiently shaping the woman I am today. Today I will cry. I won’t try to pretend. I will love you forever. I will miss you without end until we meet again.
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God must have needed another angel around the throne.
Rest In Peace, my angel.