The Thursday (9.11.14) before she passed, my mom called to tell me that she had been admitted to the ICU, her pressure was extremely low,
and that things weren’t looking too good. I immediately thought of a similar call I received three years before while studying in Rhode Island. With that call in mind, my response was simply, “y’all said the same thing last time and Mudea is still here. She’ll be fine.” Well, I was right, she was fine
because she made her transition to heaven a few short hours later.
Upon hearing the news of her passing, several emotions were experienced, tears shed, calls made, texted received, but I didn’t have much to
say. I felt so much, but I couldn’t say anything. Because her death was the first I experienced with someone I knew my entire life and interacted with almost daily, it was difficult to hear that she was no longer here with me. While I am grateful that she doesn’t have to suffer or be fearful of certain activities any longer, this is still very difficult for me.
See, my great grandma was a wonderful woman.
She had a grin that stretched a country mile…it was infectious too! Anybody that walked in her house or greeted her would be hard pressed not to walk away with a smile after hearing her say, “Hey baby!” “I love you!” or “Go in yonder and get you some biscuits…or a slice of cake!”
During the last couple years, I was spoiled by having the luxury of talking to her every morning. After being diagnosed with Guillian-Barre syndrome, my granny moved to Senatobia to care for her. Although I am 24 years old, my granny still calls me to make sure I’m up and on time for meetings and class, so this gave me the opportunity to talk to grandma every day. When I would come home to visit, she would seem so confused when I left and would always ask me, “Where you going now??” And I would respond, “Back to school, Grandma.” “…alright, well Grandma loves you!,” she would reply.
I can hear her now.
Most mornings she and my granny would talk about all the things her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren had done. When they got around to asking me what I had to do for the day, they would conclude by saying, “Guh, you a whole lotta woman!” We would laugh and I would go about my day.
I’m proud to be “a whole lotta woman,” but I couldn’t be the woman I am without the love, prayers, and presence of my great grandmother.
I am so grateful for the 24 years that I was blessed to have you in my life. You are wonderful to me and everyone who knew you. You touched so many lives in Senatobia and beyond. Thank God you can rest now. Don’t worry because this woman is thinking of you and I have a whole lot more to do to continue to make you proud.
Rest on, Mudea!
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| Our last photo "together" |
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