Skip to main content

My Granny...My Heart

I'm not usually at a loss for words. I am today. My mom told me that they think my grandmother is nearing the end of her earthly journey. That hurts.

My grandmother, Mary Melissa Hopkins Scott, is 96 years old. She's outlived her parents, two brothers, four sisters, a husband, a son, and a daughter. She's lived long enough to see Jim Crow come out to play and go back into hiding in the South. She's seen the days when voting rights were non-existent for Blacks, and she voted in every election she could when those rights were given to her. She's experienced more pain, suffering, joy, and laughter than most people will ever know in their lifetimes.

This woman got married at the age of 22 and became a widow at 42. She raised five children, and not one of them has spent time in jail, been strung out on drugs, or been in the news for anything negative. She had a stroke in 1981, and lived alone until 1999. She lived with my mom until the government threatened to cut off her SSI, which would mean she couldn't get her medicine. My uncle cared for her until 2006, when he didn't have the strength to do it anymore. She's been in the nursing home since then.

Granny is amazing. She is one of my best friends and greatest supporters. I love the way she's led our family, not with an iron hand, but a (sometimes) quiet spirit that allowed us to choose our own ways. I'll never forget how scared I was when I decided to change my major to music. I thought she'd say that it wasn't practical. Instead, she told me, "I was wondering when you'd do that." When I got ready to move to New York, she told me that I had to do what I needed to do, and that she was proud of me.

Even though Granny has nine grandchildren -- 12 if you count the stepchildren -- I'm her favorite. My brother has the distinction of being the baby, but I spent more time with her than the rest of them. I was the one who lived with Granny the longest, and she took me everywhere. She's the one who taught me the importance of being informed and voting -- not by beating me over the head with it, but by her example. We read the paper every day and watched the news every night.

When my mom called me with that news, I can't begin to tell you how I felt. On one hand, Granny has lived well past her fourscore and ten years. She's truly seen it all. I remember the last Christmas she was home, I took my laptop with me. She was amazed at how one could watch movies on such a thing. I'll never forget what she said, "That thing is amazing. You don't even have to leave your house because you can get everything you need with that. That's why people don't come together much anymore. I remember when there was only one radio on the block and we'd all go to that person's house to listen. Now, people on the same street don't even know each other."

On the other hand, I don't want her to go. I want her to meet my husband and my children. I'm nowhere near either one of those things; that's why I need for her to suck it up and live. Is that a selfish attitude? Yes. Am I proud of it? No. Would Granny want me to feel that way? Of course not. I'm honest -- another thing she taught me. I know that if I told her that, she'd laugh at me and say, "Girl, you so crazy." And I am, crazy about Granny.

Please join me in praying for my precious Granny. Pray that God's will be done in the situation, and that we -- her family -- will have the strength to endure His decision.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On Barack, the Nomination, and Black Love

I'm so excited about Barack Obama! I know I'm just joining the teeming millions when I say that, but I think something this big is worth repeating. Never before in the history of our country has a Black man been in a position to lead the free world, and it feels good. I'm so glad that I've lived long enough to see this day.

Beside the fact that Barack is a great candidate for the Democratic party, I'm moved by his relationship with Michelle. Not since The Cosby Show have we seen a successful Black couple who have a genuine and sincere love and respect for one another. What makes their relationship so special is that it's real -- not the product of someone's imagination.

I obviously don't know Michelle Obama, but I want to grow up to be just like her. I love the fact that she doesn't NEED Barack. She's strong, smart, and successful in her own right, yet secure enough to fall back and be supportive of her man. That's something that all y…

Out of Time

Time. You always think you have more...until you don't. I'm there.

I just left the doctor, where we discussed my fibroid. She said it was huge. So huge, in fact, that she couldn't get it all. If there's a need for another surgery, it'll be a hysterectomy.

I want babies. I want to be someone's mother. I also want to be someone's wife before I become someone's mother. And therein lies my dilemma.

It would be stupid for me to have a baby with My Teddy Bear. That's the reality of my life right now. But it would be even stupider to have a child with New Boo. Not only does he not want any more babies, he does't take care of the ones he already has. I would be an absolute idiot to attempt procreation with him. And as quiet as it's kept, I'm not interested in raising a child alone. I want my baby to have a mother AND a father.

So here I am, a 46-year-old woman who's run out of time.

In My Feelings...Again

There are times when I think I should change the name of this blog. Today I do NOT feel like a diva. I feel like a pitiful mess of a woman who's completely in my feelings.

I hate it when I get here.

I was minding my business last night when Juice hit me up. (Remind me to tell you about him later.) He wanted to hang out because we'd actually said we would. But he's he's only after one thing and I wasn't inspired enough to venture out to deal with him, so I told him I was in for the evening.

At the same time, New Boo asked me if I'd done my hair.

Let's be clear. My hair in and of itself isn't necessarily that big a deal. However, him asking me about it could indicate that I was on his mind and that he cared about me in more than a horizontal way. That would be awesome...but I know it's not true. Even though I engaged in conversation with him -- because that's what I do -- it was painful.

I am lonely. I want to be with someone who cares about me. I…