Big Mama

How often is it that I find inspiration to blog twice in a day?  My inspiration for this comes from my mid-afternoon movie.  Soul Food.  I rarely if ever watch this movie because it is beyond depressing for me.  It’s almost identical to how my Grandmother passed and it saddens me for more than one reason but let’s start at the beginning…

Big Mama was my father’s mother.  Now that I think about it, she wasn’t really all that big, especially not by today’s standards.  She stood five foot four inches and weighed 220 solid pounds.  When I say solid, that’s exactly what I mean – no rolls, wiggle or jiggle on that body.  She was firm but loving.  She rarely if ever whipped my sister and I but when she did, we both got it.  It was never anything significant though, a few taps and a lot of mouth.  She showed love with food mostly.  That was her specialty – cooking.  I’ve never met another who could even compare.  Matter of fact, I’ve not eaten a slice of carrot cake or a decently fried chicken wing since 1989 – the year she passed.

She was a good grandmother.  She spent a lot of time with my sister and I.  It got a little tougher once my father married a woman with three kids.  She tried to be fair but there was no mistaking who her babies were.  We were with Big Mama quite a bit on the weekends and summer vacations from school.  I even lived with her briefly once, as did my sister.  I loved being there.  Good food, lots of attention – not so many hugs and kisses though.  Oddly, I never seemed to miss the lack of kisses and hugs from her.  She obviously made up for it in a lot of other ways.

Walking in her front door you could smell the food even if she wasn’t cooking.  Baths in Calgon bath beads, Dreft and Mr. Bubbles was always the first order of business.  That was followed with a thorough rub down with lotion and baby oil – topped off with Vasoline.  We were squeaky clean at all times on her watch. My sister and I had long thick hair and occasionally it proved too much for her.  She’d take us to the beautician and have it done in Shirley Temple curls and she’d get her famous finger waves.  I can’t remember a time she got her hair done and didn’t come and get us to join her.

Sunday mornings were always GREAT.  Waking up to breakfast and dinner smells, gospel music playing loudly and a ready bath.  I’d eat breakfast, bathe and start getting ready for church while she finished preparing what was to be for dinner after church clad in her half slip, knee his and bra.

Once I started getting older, I didn’t spend as much time with her.  I thought I was grown and was too busy chasing boys to be stuck up in the house with Grandma – we were now permitted to call her Grandma.  Previously she was too young to be called that, lol.  Grandma didn’t complain much about my lack of time, she just kind of rolled with the punches.  She always let her presence be known when necessary though.

That summer I was turning 16.  I couldn’t wait to be 16.  It was the worst summer of my life.

4 days before my sweet 16 my brother was gunned down in the street – murdered.  His funeral was the day after my birthday.  He was only 17 himself.  I won’t get into much detail about him in this post but the pain from losing him numbed me for months.  I felt as though I were in a dream world – totally numb from reality.  That next month was August and it claimed my Big Mama’s life.  She had a stroke, was in a coma for a few days and  then passed away on the 13th.  I was still so numb from my brother that I only went through the proper motions – I couldn’t feel the pain of losing her; not really.  It wasn’t until that next year I was really able to grieve for my Big Mama.  I always felt guilty for that.  Yes sure, she understands but I couldn’t feel the immediate sting of losing the only grandmother I ever had.  The one constant female figure in my life was gone and I couldn’t feel it.

I’m sorry Grandma.

This post didn’t contain everything I felt inside.  I just couldn’t stop the flow of tears to verbalize the emotions.  I’m sure you’ll hear more about Big Mama again and again though.  She was the greatest grandmother in the world.