“From Mourning to Meaning”

Yesterday marked my grandmother’s 9th birthday in heaven. As time passes, grieving her loss has become a little easier. The first few years after her passing, also in September, felt unbearable. A gray cloud would hang over me until the month was done.

That began to shift when my husband proposed in September 2020. His intentional timing turned that cloud into rays of sunshine. For years, I had worn September on my sleeve as my mourning month, almost with pride, knowing my sadness came with good reason. But his proposal reminded me that grief and love can coexist. Since then, Septembers have felt different. Each year, he brings home a carrot cake, we light candles, we remember her, and then we move forward.

This year felt unlike any other. I’m in the best mental, physical, and emotional space I’ve ever been, yet it was harder than ever to celebrate the life of the woman to whom I owe everything. The more I achieve, the wiser I become, the more I wish she were here in the flesh, witnessing the fruits of her sacrifices and her tough love.

Growing Up with My Grandmother

As a child, I wasn’t proud of being raised by my grandmother. While others had their mom and dad, I had my Haitian grandmother, who had no idea what she was stepping into by raising me. The generational gap was wide, and the cultural divide; her as an immigrant from Haiti and me as an American-born granddaughter, often left us disconnected.

I remember hiding in the car when she picked me up from school so no one would see us together. I felt embarrassed at parent-teacher conferences or when friends called the house and had to talk to her. I was ashamed of being raised by “an old woman” who didn’t understand me.

But with time and age, life humbled me. I came to understand the sacrifices she made despite my embarrassment and longing for a different reality.

A Changing Relationship

As I got older, our relationship began to shift. Through my own struggles; finances, relationships, school - I often had to learn lessons the hard way. My grandmother wasn’t someone I could confide in about those things; the generational and cultural divides often led to disagreements and even hurtful words. That’s something many people from Caribbean households can relate to.

Still, by the time I was graduating high school, she started to see me differently. She saw ambition in me, a young woman who always worked, pursued her education, and carried the potential for a bright future. This changed the way she treated me, and it deepened our bond; even as she grew older and more fragile.

Shared Battles and Deepened Bonds

She was, in many ways, just a kid herself; dealing with grief, anger, love, and the unknown. I began to sympathize with her more, even when she made it hard, and grew increasingly grateful for the life she gave me.

She lived to see me graduate college and even pushed through illness to attend my master’s graduation. Early in grad school, she was diagnosed with bladder cancer; a diagnosis that changed everything. From that day, I lived with constant fear of losing her. What would life look like without her? Who would love me unconditionally?

Over the next two years, we became closer than ever. I showed up for her in ways I never thought I could. It was one of the hardest times of my life, but I did it for the woman who had given me everything. For that, I am forever indebted.

Her Legacy

As I write this, I look around and see reminders of her legacy. She was a woman who donated to multiple organizations each month, despite living on a $1,200 social security check while raising a granddaughter and maintaining a household. So when people tell me they cant donate or do selfless actions for strangers; it speaks volumes.

She constantly reminded me not to be selfish, even when my “only child syndrome” showed. She gave everything she had to family and those she loved. She was bold, sometimes with a sharp tongue, but always God-fearing. Her faith sustained her.

She was the first in our family to come to the U.S. from Haiti. Without her, none of us would be here. She built a legacy of perseverance, ambition, strength, and resilience in the face of adversity.

In everything I do, in every challenge I overcome, every selfless act, every moment I stand up for myself; she lives through me.

To My Grandmother, Rosey

To my grandmother, Rosey, in heaven: I hope this newsletter finds you well. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you or feel overwhelming gratitude for the life I’ve had because of you.

Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t even believe in myself. Sleep well, until we meet again.

As always, till next time with love. RidethaVibe with Dee ❤️