It’s taken me a while to release this blog, partially because of the disbelief. But also because it would the final goodbye. I’ve spent the past six months hoping I’d call for my baby girl. Heck, I still buy airtime to call her, and then I remember… I can’t call her on a physical phone anymore. Now I get to practise what she was lowkey preparing me for…
About a week before, I just felt like shit! I had walked out of a hectic week and I wanted nothing to do with anything or anyone but a friend insisted on coming through with wine to chill with me in an attempt to cheer me up. I obliged cause I needed the company, one of the best decisions I made. We spoke all night about anything and everything, I woke up feeling better… The next best thing to do on a Sunday was to go for a jog, take a bath, get back to bed and read a book or two. Then came a phone call from my mom asking me to come home, I asked why but she didn’t say anything. I asked my siblings what was happening, and they said they didn’t know. My heart raced but I calmed down and figured my mom was calling me to come to clean the garage.
On my way there my phone automatically played gospel, I was more than happy to listen to it. I appreciated the auto-play playlist because it also played one of my grandmother’s favourite songs. I got home and asked my dad why they didn’t just say they need help with the garage instead of hijacking my Sunday. When they sat us down, I knew there was more to this than cleaning the garage. My mom told us my grandmother’s neighbors had not seen her for a day, and she was not answering her phone. I internally prayed for a happy ending to this story but what came next was… We got another call this morning, and my heart sunk!
Those tears came like a flood that never stopped for about an hour. I cried until I napped for what seemed like forever, I woke up hoping this was a dream. Waking up with swollen eyes told me this was not a dream. My baby girl is gone for real!
Baby Girl
I was named after my (paternal) grandmother’s mother, and naturally, she has called me bo mma for as long as I can remember. It used to irritate me so much as a young child because it felt like she was shifting some sort of responsibility to me. Instead of her taking care of me, I was expected to take care of her. But as I grew up, I enjoyed it. I started calling her baby girl and literally spoke to her like a friend. She was my friend, but my grandmother first. Whenever I was out of line, she would be a grandmother and then soothe the wound by being a friend. It was a transition I admired a lot.
Our Room
What’s her’s, was mine. This includes her bedroom. My grandmother’s bedroom is the most peaceful place in the world. The whole house was peaceful, but there was something about the bedroom. I had the privilege of sleeping next to her when I went home, and every time I did it was the best sleep ever. The last time I sleep next to her I was nervous because she was so fragile. More fragile than I have ever experienced her. Love, when I turn sides I turn. The whole bed must shake, and she knew that is how I sleep. I remember being so careful to not wake her up, that she woke up often to check if I was okay and fall back to sleep.
I also love and admire the consistency of her morning routine. She woke up at 6 am every morning (without an alarm), made her bed, and went straight to the bathroom to take a bath and then sit outside or make breakfast. This was a consistent routine; every season, every situation. Being woken up by chickens crowing and witnessing the sunrise from the mountains was one of my favourite things to do with her.
A Prayer Warrior
If there’s one thing about my grandmother, it’s her fellowship at the Lutheran Church. Not only that, she prayed! In fact, she always told us to pray and never get wary no matter the season of life. She once asked me if I still go to church and I was honest enough to say that I don’t go to church anymore and it’s been years. She asked me if I still pray, and I said yes. Every day, without fail. She asked me to keep it like that, and then she pulled out a Bible verse.
Her love for her Creator always brought me to tears, before lockdown she was at church every week, it was beautiful to see her church family sending her off in the manner that they did.
The Fashionista
My grandmother was such a fashionista fam! I look at her old photos and think WOW! Till the day she left, her style was always clean and neat. Her hair, her closet, her home. Interestingly, my grandfather was a tailor, when she heard I was studying fashion design she laughed. Now I think about it both my grandfathers were tailors at some point… But I digress! I will always love and admire her style and elegance, even when she was simple she oozed confidence and divine, feminine energy. All of that came out in her personality as well. Even when she was resolving a conflict, she was strict but elegant about it.
It’s Not Goodbye
When you go to the bathroom you’ll still see a calendar with dates that are highlighted, those were all her kid’s and grandkids’ and great-grandkids’ birthdays. Every year without fail she would call to wish me a happy birthday and we would chat for a while and then she would tell me to buy her airtime. This year was the first year without that phone call and it was so weird.
I miss her gentle but honest nature. I miss how she called me to order, with love and kindness. I’m going to miss going home and suddenly everything making sense. I’m going to miss sleeping next to her and waking up rejuvenated. Most of all, I’m going to miss her!
To Maidi Grace Rangata, I listened to so much gospel music about two weeks before You left. Almost as though You were preparing me for what’s to come. 97 years, how many people can brag about reaching that age and still being able to see, walk, and read the newspaper. Let alone have great-great-grandchildren that you lived to see. It’s going to take a while to get used to You not being around in the physical, I will always love You. These tears will dry on their own, I miss You already baby girl!
Although I knew this day would come nothing could’ve prepared me for the day it actually came. My grandmother was not sick or anything like that so the shook was surreal. Thank you so much to all my friends and family who held my hand throughout the week leading to my grandmother’s funeral. You helped me celebrate her life, while I was crying. Thank you for showing up and showing me so much love.
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