It’s been awhile since I’ve last spent quality one on one time with my grandmother. As far back in time as I can remember, our relationship has been special and I’m fortunate enough to live within close vicinity of her. I think that because of this, it becomes easier for me to take my time with her for granted. There are never any associated grudges or hard feelings, but it’s simply easy to visit her house, run a few errands on her behalf, give quick affection, and then leave off to attend whatever else awaits me. Last weekend, I happily stayed for a change. It was just her and I over night, and of course it’s always a good time.
We cracked up, talked about everything, watched old westerns of her choice, and thoroughly took our time to catch up with each other. I’m growing older, finding myself halfway finished with my first semester of college, and having all kinds of shifting ideas that I was able to share with her. However, believe it or not, I think I was the one who had the most catching up to do. I never realized how much she too has changed from the person that I remember hanging out with even just a few years ago.
You may be thinking, “Duh Wisdom!” and wondering how I could be so self-absorbed to the point of not being able to detect differences in my own loved one. In my defense, I could argue that I’m actually very attentive and likely to notice differences in her physicalities, or overall state of being, but perhaps the changes that I observed last weekend aren’t actually different at all. Perhaps, they’ve always been the same, but have a new meaning to me now. My grandma’s new morning routine, that may or may not be so new, conjured up all the emotions in me.
All at the same time, I was saddened, entertained, amazed, inspired, and being hella enlightened. My phone was on the verge at dying out at any given moment, and I had no charger, but I was determined to document it all so that I didn’t forget any of the little details. This is what it looked like:
My grandma woke up, and the first thing that she said, and I quote, was “Rough night! I think that’s why I be so tired in the morning, all that dreaming.” And let me tell ya’ll, I can definitely attest to that. My grandma is good for sleep-talking, sleep-yelling, and even sleep-cursing. That has never changed.
Right after that, she sat up and said very tiredly, “Thank you God.” She then stood up, and walked slowly into her living room. I heard her say aloud, also tiredly, but comforting in it’s own way, “Good morning Lin. Good morning mama.” To provide you with some context, “Lin” is her older sister who has recently transitioned, and “mama” is her mama, also of the ancestral realm. I briefly wondered why she didn’t say good morning to her transitioned brother, but had no time to investigate that, as my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the turning on of her speaker system.
Please know that this is a whole speaker. Not a cellular device, not Spotify, not Pandora radio. This was a speaker and a CD type of situation, and it was loud. As the song repeated over and over and over and over again “It’s been a good day, I thank God for it.”, so did my grandma with equal enthusiasm each time around.
It lasted her all the way through her bathroom routine, and it wasn’t until she began to go cook breakfast, that she gave Rev. James Cleaveland a break. She listened to other songs that basically said the same thing, but at least they had different beats and different melodies. I stopped physically taking notes, but this is what I think we can all learn from her morning routine:
Gratitude looks different for everyone, and it doesn’t even have the exact same meaning for everybody. What matters is that it’s getting done, and that it’s keeping us going at our worst. As I have thoroughly detailed in a previous post titled The Power of Keeping A Daily Gratitude Log Is Underrated! This is How You Can Start One Today, I too practice gratitude in the mornings and encourage my readers to partake in it too. Personally, I write in a journal, and I have listed out several other ways that one could go about practicing.
Witnessing my grandmother’s morning opened my eyes up to yet another way of showing gratitude. Her process looks completely different from mine. Hers is more musical, it’s a lot more religious based, and most likely meaningful to her in a different way than it’s meaningful to me. This is the part that makes me emotional, but putting myself in her shoes as an elderly woman who knows of physical transitions surrounding her, thanking the creator for another day is probably more pressing for her. The same way that I’ve heard how reaching a certain age as black male in America comes with a new context of gratitude that many don’t make it to. I began to think about the physical transitions that our family has experienced over the years and realized my grandmother is almost our eldest. Despite all of her health declines and her physical mishaps that are associated with this stage of life, and maybe even come as a result of her own choices, my grandma is very much strong, and persistent.
This is not to imply that gratitude itself will keep us strong or persistent in our worst times, but judging by her morning routine, I can tell that it has done a lot to keep my grandmother going recently. Tired and drained from sleep-talking or not, she gets up, and she creates a day for herself. I think that this is what is most important. We all need something that we feel blessed to have enough to keep us going. What keeps you going?
XOXO, Wisdom