Biological Grandmother Narrative

The fragrant smell of cookies fresh out of the oven and the faint sound of humming over Saturday morning cartoons. These were a few of the things that I associated with grandmothers when I was younger. Red lipstick kisses and stern smacks on the butt when a child was in trouble. These were also things that I correlated with grandmothers.
Growing up as a member of the black community, I was fed the community narrative that the grandmother is the root of the family. She provides warmth, wisdom, and soul food. She plants seeds of resilience in her offspring with the hope that they will pass on their lessons and triumphs to their own children. She wears multiple hats: caregiver, counselor, worst nightmare (only when the situation calls for it), and confidant. However, there was a conflicting narrative being fed to me by mother. A narrative of neglect, abuse, and favoritism that prevented me from establishing a connection with my biological grandmother at an early age. Her location in Florida only widened the distance, both physical and emotional, because you cannot receive red …show more content…
I had not used it since. Even though it was four hours away I remembered every intricate detail and the circumstances of its construction. It was a happier time. I remembered the twinkle of the ribbon in the bright Louisiana sky as I twirled around the backyard upon finding out about my aunt. The way that the lilac and rainbow ribbon refused to be overtaken by the vast blue sky even though it was small and fragile in comparison. The cancer may have spread throughout Momo Rose, but she was still fighting. Still resilient like the seeds she planted in her family. To me, the ribbon had found renewed purpose after all of these years. It had come to signify the act of continuing when met with opposition. I concluded that this is how I want to remember her. As flowing freely, even if it is one day from this life to the