Dear Granny,
Today is the day we bid you farewell on the surface of this earth. This day, from the moment I realized my rapid journey into adulthood has been my worst nightmare. I knew then, it would be heartbreaking, not because you were my grandmother, but because losing someone like the woman you were will never be easy.
For those who know me well, knew you and papa were the center of my universe. Being in America, with only a small portion family who migrated caused me to be so family oriented, even when family members were not. Nonetheless, you showed me a kind of love and instilled a sense of family in me I can never forget.
You were responsible for my upbringing in Trinidad and were more than just a grandmother to me. I saw you as a super hero. You were my granny. The Granny. The Merle Springer. I remember trying to fight down kids in vacation bible school a summer because they were calling you granny and were not related. Every year since you’ve told me that story and every year it resonates.
You were the woman who introduced me to God. & even when I walked away from that faith, you never lost faith in me. Even with my tattoos, piercings, my feteing and love for mas, you loved me no less, even though you disapproved. I remember the day, you came to me with your Bible and showed me the verse,”You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you: I am the Lord.”
I explained to you, my tattoo wasn’t any glorification of the dead and you just nodded your head and slowly walked out the door. You were trying to guide me, even in your dissapointment.
You prayed for me all the time. For my safety, my guidance, my health, my strength, my well-being. When I was in Trinidad, no matter where I went, even if it was to head out the road to get a maxi, you would walk out to the gate, pray for me and watch me go. I got in a habit of that and kept comfort in it. You still treated me like I was child but it made me happy to know you felt comfort. I would peek through your luvers on my way out and say “granny ah gone” and not to soon after I would hear a, “Wait leh me see yuh.” You always wanted to see my face before I went or my outfit to make a comment about how “young people ting is this and that”.
The nights and mornings I would be out feteing and come back late, somehow you would be up, peeking through your luvers , half asleep when you heard me fiddling with the gate. I knew I was being as quiet as possible, but that morning the buff was waiting for me, about how you was watching the news and was worried and ting and ting. You worried so much about me when you never knew how much I worried about you.
There were many times I would lay in bed or sit in the gallery and listen to you. And Granny you could rel talk but I loved it. You shared so much knowledge and lessons with me. Whenever you and I were home alone, I would come spend time with you because I didn’t want you to be or feel alone. I knew with aging comes death and sickness and I wanted so much time with you because for most of the year, I was away. I knew you knew I loved you, but I always felt like I couldn’t show you how much.
Everytime I heard you were sick or in the hospital, I wanted to call out of work and fly down to Trinidad. I’m impulsive like that. I would want to fight this and that doctor and question their entire licencing. Mom always had to calm me down and let me know that you would be okay. And for most times, you were.
The morning of your death, I was livid at mom for not letting me know you went back to the hospital the night before. I was at a band launch modeling a costume and could realistically do nothing but I still wanted to know. Before I got clearance to fly down the next day, Kwesi called to tell me you were gone. That feeling everyone talks about, of the world crashing down sounds more metaphoric than realistic but in a moment of disbelief, my world started to crumble. Every moment I could remember of your love, blessings, teachings, kisses and hugs, ran through my head. Every moment of our family and the legacy you were leaving behind was prominent. Your death was so unexpected and I felt robbed ; Death got to you before I could. I felt guilty for not calling every Thursday like my mother did, for not spending more time with you and feteing less while I was here for carnival. Time was all I wanted but time played a terrible trick on me.
Since your death, I’ve been in internal pain and anger. I’m tired of the condolences and cliche, objective messages from friends and associates. Living positively in your memory hasn’t been so successful for me and I hope with today, I am able to heal. I know as I journey into the unknown future, everything I do will be with you in mind. My degree and studies was something you prayed for and I wanted to share my semester grades with you this summer. Your prayers and words will forever echo in my head.
Granny you were such an amazing woman. Your struggles and triumphs will forever be remembered by those who knew you. You raised a beautiful family and nutured and adopted many others. You touched everyone you encountered with your sprit and that is, what made you so pure. & so loved. You, Merle Ann Springer are an inspiration and I know not just to me. You are an inspiration at how to be kind hearted, God loving and fearing, genuinely good and loving to everyone with no bias or restraint.
I will miss you painfully. I will miss you jingling the chimes before entering moms housing saying “neighbor, neighbor.” I will miss you peeping through the window to make sure I was alive when in truth, I was just in deep sleep. I will miss you calling me a housewife whenever I started to cook or wash clothes. I will miss doing your hair in corkscrews, something so simple was a bonding moment for me. I will miss everything about you.
I hope I made you proud in the time you were here and one day crave, I will see you again.
Love,
Jen Jen